Circus Act
by Hamliet
Summary: When Hisoka finds himself helping Illumi raise his siblings, he views it as an amusing chapter in his quest for the next thrill. However, the Zoldycks and Gon Freecss have another plan.
1. Ringmaster

**Thanks for reading! This fic is technically a sequel to Locked On, which focuses on Illumi, but it can be read as a standalone. Everything's really explained in the first chapter. Also, just know reading it that... this is Hisoka. Even if it is a modern AU so he's not quite the twisted murderer he is in canon, he's still like, pretty messed up.**

* * *

"Motherfucker!"

"Kalluto, if you swear again, I will—"

"Oh shut up, I think that's the least of our problems."

"Onii-chan, do we have to fight?"

"Whatever. I'm out of here." Footsteps pounded down towards the basement.

The chorus of the five Zoldyck human disasters voicing their frustrations whirled through the house like a tornado Hisoka was lucky enough to witness. He grinned, leaning forward from his perch on the island in the kitchen.

"Your clown boyfriend's here," Killua informed Illumi. "I can tell. It smells like his perfume. Come on, Alluka, Kalluto."

Hisoka snorted, swinging his legs. Illumi stomped into the kitchen and opened a cabinet in the same manner as Illumi always did when he was pissed. Calmly, as if each movement was measured to the nanosecond to look normal, like he was _fine_ , everything was fine, he not angry at all. It wound up looking unnatural but that was a quirk of Illumi's Hisoka wasn't eager to encourage him to break. It usually worked in Hisoka's favor to know when he was imagining stomping puppies for fun. "Bored?"

"I spent all day working out," Hisoka reported, hopping down. "For the match next week. Seems like it was easier than therapy."

Illumi closed the cabinet so quietly Hisoka barely heard it. He turned the coffee pot on and grabbed lettuce from the fridge. "I do not understand why Miss Krueger thinks this is going to help us."

"It won't," Hisoka advised, grabbing a carrot and crunching down on it. It felt good, to hear it snap and splinter between his teeth.

"Dr. Yorkshire is not very nice," said Illumi. "We have to remember memories I'd rather not share and talk about them." He dumped lettuce into a bowl.

Hisoka arranged the cherry tomatoes and carrots and cucumbers to resemble a face. The yellow peppers made a perfect star, and the onions a teardrop. "Like what?" Hisoka asked.

"I said I'd rather not share." Illumi scowled. He tapped his fingers on the counter. "But. Killua keeps talking about memories where I—" He clamped his mouth shut.

"If he hates you," said Hisoka. "Why not have fun with it?"

"I want him to love me. I thought he did." Illumi frowned at the salad.

"It's me," Hisoka said.

"I can see that. I'm not having my siblings eat your face."

"How sad," Hisoka remarked as Illumi took tongs to the salad, slashing it around. "I guess that's limited to you."

Illumi nodded. "Exactly."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. Illumi would never cease to entertain him with how such an intelligent person could be so dense.

"My parents are considering plea bargains," Illumi said.

"Yeah, I saw that in the newspaper."

Illumi cocked his head. "Chrollo's? Since when do you read it?"

"Since I want to convince him to spar with me," said Hisoka. Lucilfer had been a companion at the gym since Hisoka's college days, but the man had never fought him. But Hisoka had always been watching, licking his lips, waiting for him to get stronger and stronger and yet have a reason to feel like fighting him. Thanks to Hisoka's helping that Kurta kid try for revenge on Chrollo awhile ago, Chrollo should be sufficiently irritated with Hisoka.

"Don't be a fool," said Illumi. "Don't start a fight you can't win."

"Who told you that?" asked Hisoka, popping a tomato in his mouth. The acid exploded. "Your parents?"

Illumi lowered his head.

"I'll win," Hisoka said. "Or die trying."

Illumi cast him a withering look.

"Hey, Illumi!" called Killua's voice. "Gon and Mito invited me over for dinner, okay? He said I can bring Alluka, too."

Gon, having recovered from his injuries, had returned to living with his aunt, but the woman had moved to Yorkshin. A nice woman, if not particularly interesting. Plus Kurta Rage Machine and Wannabe Doctor had moved into an apartment Leorio managed to procure with Illumi's help. And by help, Hisoka presumed guilt and desire to win Killua back over.

Illumi blew out his breath. "I'd rather you didn't. I want to talk to you, Kalluto, and Alluka about school."

"Can't we do it tomorrow—"

"I said no, Kil!"

Killua's jaw dropped. "Figures you'd go right back to being—"

Illumi peered down at him. "Aren't you one to talk? Who's being manipulative now, Kil?"

Killua's eyes popped as if Illumi had dumped boiling oil onto him. He turned and pounded up the stairs.

"I wasn't wrong," Illumi stated, watching him go.

"Harsh, but not wrong," Hisoka concurred. What the hell happened in therapy? Oh to be a fly on the wall in that session. He could just picture all the Zoldyck siblings trying to both kill each other, dump salt on their wounds, and also trying to bind up gashes and splint broken parts at the same time. It would have enough angst and drama to make him—

Illumi frowned. "Are you going to stay?"

"Is that an _I want you to go?"_ Hisoka questioned. If so, he'd just sneak back into Illumi's room via his bedroom window. The idiot never locked it.

"I don't care." Illumi carried the salad to the table. "The therapist wants us to have family dinners."

"You pretty much have been anyways." Hisoka decided to take that as a _stay_. Mostly because he was curious himself about how dinner would go with five moody Zoldycks. Well, four moody Zoldycks, plus Alluka, who really was the most even-tempered one despite her supposed mental illness.

"Yes, but now it's required and if I don't make them then I could lose them." Illumi pressed his lips together.

Kalluto literally crossed his arms the entire meal. Killua stabbed tomatoes like he was stabbing eyes, Milluki complained about the lack of croutons, and Alluka asked Hisoka to show her another magic trick. At least one of them got him.

"Didn't you want to talk about school?" Killua asked, looking at Illumi. "Or was that an excuse?"

"When she said to call each other on bad behavior, I believe that included you," said Illumi. "You're exhibiting—"

Alluka squeaked, clapping her hands over her ears.

Kalluto glowered at them all. "I overheard you talking to Bisky," he said. "You're sending us to public school."

"Gon gets to go too," Illumi said, refusing to meet Killua's eyes.

 _Oooh_. Hisoka pursed his lips. That could be interesting. He imagined Illumi peering in through the windows, using binoculars until he got banned from the school. It would not be out of character.

Killua tipped back in his chair. "Sounds good to me."

"School?" Alluka squeaked. She bit down on her fork. "But I—"

"I've talked to the administrators," Illumi said. "Or, Miss Krueger has."

"What about Kurapika?" asked Kalluto.

"He has his GED," said Killua. "Leorio and him are starting college."

"Kalluto," said Illumi, turning to his youngest brother. "You and Alluka are in the middle school. Please take care of—each other."

"And I'm in high school," said Killua. "Cool. Freshman."

"Your scores indicate you can be a junior—"

"No, I want to be with Gon. And not rush things like Mom and Dad would've had me do." Killua stuffed more lettuce dripping in dressing into his mouth.

"Fine."

"Oh, this is going to be good," Milluki exulted.

When dinner's over, Illumi makes Milluki clean up. He frowned at Hisoka. "Are you staying the night or not?"

Hisoka eyed Illumi's long dark hair, dangling to his waist. "If you're offering to fuck, why not?"

"I'm too tired." Illumi turned and headed up the stairs.

Hisoka paused. Damn. He'd been looking forward to that all day. It was almost as if the therapist was a fun vampire who drained all the life out of Illumi. But that was okay. This might prove amusing for Hisoka as well. He could record Illumi's melancholy just like before. He had over a thousand subscribers on his channel, which was called _boneheadedboner_ and consisted entirely of dumbass things Illumi would say and do.

He jogged up the stairs and found Illumi sitting back on his bed, pulling out a book. Illumi tilted his head up. "I thought you were going home."

"When have I ever been predictable?" Hisoka slipped onto the bed, next to Illumi.

"I'm not in the mood."

"I wasn't trying to seduce you. I can't help it if my mere presence oozes sex appeal."

Illumi rolled his huge eyes. He shut the book. "If my parents take the plea bargain, they'll avoid prison for child abuse." His voice shook.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't want them in prison," said Illumi. "But I want them to leave us alone. And Bisky wants us to take in Mike, the dog—I don't know—and apparently if they go to trial they'll just say I should be in prison too. They might convince Kil."

"I doubt it," said Hisoka. "I saw them slap you." Prison sounded like the dullest experience ever. He'd rather not, personally.

Illumi rubbed his thumbs over the corners of his book. He exhaled. Hisoka leaned back against the pillows, tossing some of his cards in the air and catching them. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Illumi's hand snaked out and he caught a card.

"Oh?" Hisoka arched a brow.

"Let's play," said Illumi.

Hisoka sat up. "What game?"

"I don't care."

After Hisoka won two rounds of Speed, Illumi beat him in Gin, and then they played an endless game of war until Illumi eventually pointed out that it was one am and they had things to do in the morning.

It wasn't until Hisoka woke up at three in the morning, Illumi sleeping daintily curled up next to him, that he realized he'd forgotten to record his boyfriend.

* * *

 _Is this Hisoka?_

Hisoka frowned at his phone as he stepped out of the shower. Chrollo had refused to spar with him again. He contemplated texting a nude of himself but simply responded, _who's asking?_

 _Hi Hisoka! It's Gon Freecss._

Well, thank whatever he didn't send that pic. Hisoka rolled his eyes.

 _Killua wanted me to ask you to make Illumi not walk them into school their first day._

Hisoka guffawed. Of course Illumi would do that. Of course he would. _Sorry, but Killua can ask his brother himself._ _I believe that's what his therapist would say. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 _He's too scared to. He doesn't want Illumi to hate him._

Gon was going to get himself killed at some point with his stupid honesty. His pluck though—if he could only focus on that, he could grow into a very interesting human being. Hisoka wondered what the best option would be. He opted to screenshot the conversation and send it to Illumi.

 _WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?_ ? ? ? Gon's message came later that night.

 _I did what you requested,_ Hisoka responded.

"I just want to make sure it's a safe place for them!" Illumi protested the night before school started. "That's all."

Hisoka shrugged. He took a sip of beer. Chrollo still hadn't texted him back. Bastard.

 _If you text me one more time I swear I'm going to mace you next time I see you I am not Chrollo's keeper okay?_ Machi yelled earlier.

"At least Killua doesn't want me to hate him," Illumi mused, tapping his chin. "Though that he thinks I could—does he think I'm just like Dad?" He looked crestfallen. "But I'd embarrass him… he used to be proud to be with me."

"Was he?" Hisoka asked. "Or were you just proud to be with him?"

"I don't need another therapy session, Hisoka. Try it and I'll kill you."

Ahh, spicy Illumi. Hisoka's favorite, because spicy Illumi was seldom spicy in the same precise way. The zest was always slightly different. Hisoka pinned Illumi's arms above his head. "I'd like to see you try." If he couldn't fight Chrollo, at least he could fuck Illumi.

Illumi grabbed him by the neck, yanking him down. His teeth scraped Hisoka's lip. He kissed him like he was afraid, with a desperation to how mouth lips worked Hisoka's. An interesting flavor. Hisoka hadn't tasted that since the first time they had sex.

The next morning, Hisoka woke up to find Illumi already gone, along with everyone except Milluki. A text appeared on his phone. From Gon. _You failed. :(_

Ah, good. Gon's pluck. Hisoka headed to the gym. He had that fight with Kastro coming up, a rematch, and he did not intend to lose. And he wouldn't, no matter how bitter Kastro was at the only defeat he'd ever received. Because winning was all Hisoka knew how to do.

"Is Illumi off being Mr. Mom?" called Shalnark.

"He's off somewhere," Hisoka answered, changing. He set his water bottle down.

"Well, you're in luck today," Shalnark informed him.

"Really? I find it more fun to fight bad luck," Hisoka taunted. Shalnark looked like a twelve year old and he was annoying Hisoka today.

"How about fighting me?" Chrollo's voice drawled.

Oh? Well, this was interesting. Hisoka cocked his head as he spun around.

"I've got nothing better to do today, now that the Zoldyck family drama is starting to reach oversaturation," Chrollo said, tossing his hair. "No one wants to hear about it anymore."

"Shame." Hisoka suspected Illumi would be relieved. And hey, it hadn't killed him yet. He grabbed his water bottle and drank.

Chrollo's stupid underground newspaper was the bane of Yorknew's existence. Hisoka joined temporarily in college, but only to annoy Chrollo enough so that Chrollo would want to try to come for him someday. Except he couldn't. No one knew anything about Hisoka Morow and he intended to keep it that way.

Also, Chrollo was hot. Hisoka eyed him up and down.

"I should warn you," said Chrollo as they got onto the gym floor. "I don't fight unless I know I can win."

"Then this should be fascinating," Hisoka returned. "And good practice for Kastro." Actually, after this, Kastro would be a breeze. Like a dessert.

"You know," Chrollo said, rolling his neck. "I'm surprised you're still with Illumi. I would've thought he'd get boring, especially if he's getting into therapy and all."

Well, Illumi wasn't boring, and Hisoka wasn't sure who was more surprised by that, Chrollo, Illumi, or himself. He made contact with Chrollo's jaw. A loud crack echoed. The man stumbled back.

Chrollo couldn't win. Hisoka didn't know why he was trying, but he didn't care. At the very least Chrollo would be fun.

His throat felt parched. Hisoka shrugged it off. It wouldn't take long to defeat him.

Except, then Chrollo landed a hit on him, and Hisoka felt like his head was floating. He shook his head.

"You should watch where you put your water," Chrollo said. His voice sounded as if it was dissolving.

"You're an idiot," Hisoka said. And a cheater. Not that he was surprised. He didn't think.

"I told you," Chrollo said. "I don't lose. Do you still want to continue?"

"I'm not surrendering to the likes of you," Hisoka responded. His voice sounded strange. Slurred.

"How very interesting," Chrollo mocked.

* * *

His jaw ached. And his arm. His head felt like someone hit him with hammer on the back of his skull.

"Oh, you're awake," said a voice. Machi.

 _The fuck happened?_

 _I lost?_

He didn't remember a single thing beyond Chrollo's taunt. _He drugged me? What a cockroach. And a loser._

Except he was the one who lost, and he was not amused.

"Hey," said a voice above him. Hisoka squinted. Fucking bright lights.

That stupid old man who spent hours running on the treadmill in too-short shorts stood above him. He was a doctor, supposedly. Isaac Netero.

"I got him to make sure you wouldn't die," Machi said. "You're welcome, Idiot."

"Your shoulder was dislocated, but I popped it back in place," Netero informed him. "I suspect your wrist is fractured, too. You should see about getting a splint. And you should wait at least six weeks before—"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. Six weeks? Not happening. He had that match with Kastro and he wasn't letting fucking Chrollo's dirty tricks keep him from defending his title against that pathetic L'Oreal model.

"I told you not to mess with Chrollo," Machi told him when Netero left. "I hope you learned your lesson." She rose, dressed in her nurse's scrubs.

"On the contrary," Hisoka managed. Damn, his throat hurt too. "I'm going to make Chrollo pay for this. And Shalnark. And any of you bastards."

Machi whirled around, pink hair flying. She glared at him.

"Oh, and I will be competing, if you idiot boss wants to write about that," Hisoka added, dragging himself to his feet. Netero hadn't mentioned his ankle but something was definitely twisted there. "And tell him if he writes anything about this, I'll destroy his little paper until he has nothing left."

"Didn't you just—" Machi started, but Hisoka stalked past her. "Hey, wait! You wanted to fight—you never fight fair; you have no right to—"

Hisoka ignored her. Driving with a busted ankle could be interesting. And hey. Losing was new too, though not an experience he particularly liked. Or liked at all. _I'm better than this. I am. I am. I am._ Chrollo had to drug him to defeat him; didn't that prove just how strong he was? He wasn't weak, and he wasn't some vulnerable person clinging to his stolen information and written words to make his life feel like it had a sliver of meaning. Because it didn't. It was just about what he could get. And he'd been looking forward to this forever, and Chrollo stole his ability to even fucking _remember_ what happened.

 _I'm going to get you, Chrollo, and everything you enjoy._

His phone rang. Illumi.

Hisoka ignored it.


	2. Juggling

_The hell happened to you?_

Hisoka's phone lit up as he stepped out of the shower. Apparently Illumi was annoyed that he couldn't get an answer out of Hisoka. Of course. He couldn't control Hisoka. Hisoka had always wondered how long it would take Illumi to start trying.

He sent him a nude. _I'm not dead._

 _You look like shit._

 _Rude. (*_ _｀へ_ _´*) Ask Chrollo what happened._

 _Kalluto already told me._

Hisoka snorted. Ah, right. The entire world was against him. Well, that was just fine. He could have fun wrecking it, leaving his mark at the very least. He left his hair down for now and dropped onto his couch. He did know one person with a similar grudge against Chrollo…

Pounding echoed against his door. Hisoka cussed. He hauled himself up, forcing himself to walk normally, bum ankle be damned. Nothing else mattered. He yanked the door open.

"Hi," said Illumi. His eyes stayed the same, huge and dark, as he took in Hisoka's appearance. "May I come in?"

"You're too polite." Hisoka stepped back.

"Should I pry open your bedroom window and wait for you on the bed then, next time?" asked Illumi, shutting the door behind him. He shrugged out of his dark coat.

"There are no trees by my bedroom window, Illumi, and even you can't climb up a straight wall." Hisoka leaned back, folding his arms. His shoulder screamed in pain. "Though, if that's why you're here, I wouldn't refuse."

"I came to make coffee." Illumi headed to the kitchen.

"How terribly did Killua react today at school?" Hisoka couldn't resist asking.

"He's off with Gon now, at his aunt's place." Illumi shrugged. "He seemed mad at me this morning, though. I simply tried to escort him and he—"

Hisoka snorted. "He doesn't want the same things you want, Illumi. Remember?"

"I remember." Illumi scowled as he finished measuring the coffee and pressed brew. "So, your fight with Kastro is off."

"On the contrary."

Illumi swung his hair over his shoulder. Long and thick, it shone like an onyx waterfall in the sunlight streaming through the window. "Never take a fight you can't win."

"See, that's the difference between you and me," Hisoka said. "The greater the odds for failure are, the more excited I get."

"You're stupid."

Hisoka shrugged. "Did you really expect anything else?"

"No." Illumi poured out the coffee into two mugs. He left his black and dumped three tablespoons of sugar into Hisoka's.

 _Hm, you noticed._ Hisoka only liked coffee when it tasted like coffee ice cream.

"Then I will help you," Illumi announced, raising his mug to his lips. "I'm not Kastro nor Chrollo, but you only won against me when I was stabbed. We can practice, in my place so Chrollo won't have the chance to pull any dirty tricks."

Hisoka almost spat out his coffee. Illumi? Offering to help?

 _Why would I need help?_

He didn't need charity. It always came too late. "What's up with you? Why are you over here acting all soft?" he jeered.

"Ah." Illumi smirked. "Dr. Yorkshire asked me to listen more to feelings. Which I don't quite understand the purpose of, but since I was thinking of you after Kalluto told me what happened, I decided to come over. And I'd rather you win than Chrollo. We sleep together. Chrollo's just someone I know from college." He recited those words as if he had been practicing so much that he now hated them, which is exactly why Hisoka believed him.

"You should assist Kastro instead," Hisoka said. "Tell him my weaknesses. Although I suppose he's too honorable to ever listen to you. So tell Chrollo, and he can find a way to make sure Kastro hears. I'm sure he'd love it."

"Hm?" Illumi blinked. "Why would I—"

"It'd be a challenge, Illumi," Hisoka said, leaning forward. "I respect your intellect, and your analyses. Despite you being the star of _boneheadedboner_. You could make this fight even more exciting."

"Hisoka, the odds are already stacked against you," Illumi stated.

"They always have been, and they never are," Hisoka replied. A paradox for dear Illumi to ponder.

"If I help Chrollo, will you still be sleeping with me?" asked Illumi. "I think Alluka would miss you."

Hisoka snorted. "Do you really think I'd turn down sex? Or sleeping with an enemy, if temporarily an enemy?"

Illumi set his coffee down and kissed him. He grunted in disgust. "You taste like sugar."

"You taste bitter."

* * *

Three days later, Hisoka was not prepared to open his door that afternoon and find Gon Freecss standing there.

"Hi," said Gon, staring up at him.

"Come to see if the rumors are true?" Hisoka smirked. "I'm still alive."

Gon frowned, rubbing the back of his head. "What rumors?"

 _Never mind_. "Did Killua send you to warn me away from his brother?" Killua was more protective and more like Illumi than he would ever admit. And Hisoka found it fascinating.

"No," said Gon. "What happened to your wrist?"

Indigo and mustard bruises bloomed over it. Hisoka shrugged and cracked his knuckles on that hand. "Nothing a sparring match won't fix."

"Oh." Gon bit his lip.

Well, this was interesting. Why was the kid here? He always thought of Hisoka as creepy, that much Hisoka knew, and it wasn't exactly as if Hisoka minded. It proved Gon was not stupid, for all his paradoxical simplicity. Just like Hisoka himself.

"Um, Hisoka," Gon began. "I have something I want to ask you, but you're injured, so—"

"I just said it wasn't bad," Hisoka interrupted, his curiosity tempered by the kid's fake pity.

"Well anyways," said Gon. "School's weird. Like, everyone knows who my dad and who Killua's parents are, so they think they know us, but they don't."

"I've got some sad news for you, kid," said Hisoka, beckoning Gon into his house. "Apparently adults are no different than kids because that's exactly how society functions too. Cheers."

Gon shrugged. "They know my dad better than I do."

Hisoka had nothing to offer the kid. Milk, maybe? Did he even still have milk? Or was it expired? He usually spent his time with Illumi lately.

"Killua and I were hoping to make an impression," said Gon, widening his eyes. "Since they seem to think we're all uncool. They don't believe we know you. They all look up to you, you know. Since you're such a famous wrestler."

"Hm." Hisoka crossed his arms. A smile spread across his face and warmth inside of him. _See, Chrollo? Who even knows you exist?_

"Anyways," Gon said again, hopping up and down. "Killua and I were hoping you could help us."

Hisoka could only imagine Illumi's delicious reaction if Killua invited him to show up instead of Illumi.

"Like if we could go to a practice of yours and take pictures or something," Gon added.

Hisoka arched his eyebrows. Well, it could definitely be interesting, and help Illumi help Chrollo. Maybe. If that was Gon's motivation, because the kid was definitely lying about something, which was hilarious to Hisoka because Gon absolutely sucked at it, and an honest person shouldn't lie to a liar. "Sure. I'll be practicing tomorrow afternoon." For the first time since his injury. And if that stupid old Netero tried to yell at him, Hisoka would kick him in the balls with his stilettos.

 _Gon, you liar._ He wondered if he should tell Illumi. _Nah_. Why spoil the surprise, whatever it could be?

But before he could go and practice the next day, he had to talk to a certain golden rage mushroom.

"Oh no," said Kurapika, stopping in his tracks when he saw Hisoka waiting for him as he left what sounded like an incredibly dull art history class.

"Oh yes," Hisoka replied.

"How the hell did you find me? What are you, some kind of stalker?" Kurapika pushed past him, book bag slung over his shoulder. But Hisoka caught a glimpse of his eyes, covered in a small circle.

 _Contacts._ They were red right now, weren't they? He still couldn't control himself, could he? Hisoka wet his lips. "I have my ways."

"Well, now you're just being creepy. Leave me alone. You're bad news." Kurapika hurried across the quad.

Hisoka followed. "I know you haven't given up," he said in a singsong voice.

Kurapika skidded to a halt. He turned to gape at Hisoka. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean," said Hisoka. "You're not the type, are you, Kurapika Kurta? You'll never give up. Not until you have what you want, and you don't care what you have to do to get it. At least now you're not living with Killua or Gon so you won't drag them into your brewing disaster."

Kurapika's chest heaved. A loose leaf blew through the air, catching on his hair. Kurapika batted it away. "I'm not going to kill Chrollo," he hissed. "I'm—not that person. Not anymore."

"Ah, but you are. We're always the same."

Kurapika gulped. "I've switched my goal."

"Oh?" Hisoka waited.

"It doesn't matter! You didn't help me last time!"

"I think I saved you from spending the rest of your life in prison for premeditated murder, so I'm quite certain that counts, Kurapika."

Kurapika cussed. He yanked at his book bag. "I'm going to get the rubies back. The ones Chrollo and his troupe stole." He swallowed. "They're heirlooms. I can—bury them with my family. Even if I couldn't get them back in life, for them, they can still have them—" His voice broke.

 _You're even stupider than I thought_. "So instead of killing Chrollo, you'd like to kill yourself on a pointless chase?"

"Chrollo must have sold them somewhere," Kurapika said, glaring at him. "I can find them. I'm sure. He must have files on everyone he's ever met. That's the type of _person_ he is." The term "person" came out cold, forced.

"He does seem like that kind of bitch," Hisoka agreed.

"So what are you offering?" Kurapika finally said. His shoulders slumped, as if he couldn't believe he was lowering himself to this level again. To the level of having anything to do with Hisoka. Pretty typical.

"That we work together, of course," said Hisoka. "Or mutually exchange information. Like before. Except this time without murder involved."

"In all fairness," Kurapika admitted, studying his stained flats. "I never told you about that."

"In your defense," said Hisoka, because watching Kurapika lacerate himself grew tiring after awhile and he'd seen the kid cry too many rivers already. "I knew."

"Do you want revenge on him too?" Kurapika asked.

"Of course," said Hisoka. _You just want revenge on yourself, don't you_?

"So what are you asking for specifically?"

"Give me any seedy information you can find on Shalnark," said Hisoka. "And Kortopi. He was there too." He didn't want to hurt Machi. She was too pretty, and by pretty he meant scary.

"Drugging you was wrong," Kurapika said, meeting Hisoka's eyes.

Hisoka shrugged. That kind of talk made him uncomfortable. And he didn't like it, that feeling, like Kurapika was pitying him. This was exactly what fueled his rage, the petty bitterness streaming from a wound he shouldn't have received. But because he was stronger than that, not because of any sort of moral high ground like what Kurapika was imagining.

God, the brat's insufferable with that kind of thinking. Kurapika might as well accept that he's soiled and get on with him, but no, he'd scrub his hands until they were raw because then at least he'd be in pain and be able to judge others. Hisoka'd rather have dirt on his hands than be missing the skin off his palms.

"Okay," Kurapika agreed. He held out his hand to shake on it. Hisoka rolled his eyes but complied.

Chrollo wouldn't care about his own reputation. His friends, on the other hand… _you have more weaknesses than you think you do, Chrollo Lucilfer._

* * *

"Yo, Hisoka!" Gon trotted up to him.

"Where's Killua?" asked Hisoka, walking through the gym parking lot. He still refused to limp no matter how much the bones crunched against each other in his ankle. He'd die before Chrollo got that satisfaction, that bastard.

"He had therapy." Gon shrugged. "But he said it was fine for me to come."

 _Sure_. Hisoka still wasn't certain what Gon was up to, but the kid could probably only lie for so long. He was too pure to withstand Hisoka's prodding. Hisoka would have his answer soon enough. Maybe by the end of the day.

"Aren't you not supposed to be here?" called Netero's voice when they entered.

That was it. Time to kill. Hisoka whirled, narrowing his eyes. His earrings slapped the side of his throat. "My, my, you—"

"He's just sparring with me," Gon interjected. "Since I'm a kid, I can't do too much damage, right?" He gave a wide, toothy smile.

"Be careful, Gon," Hisoka warned as Netero gave a weak nod. "You might become just like me, you little liar."

"I really think we could spar, though!" Gon insisted. "Like, if you were to show me some moves, that could be really cool—that'll help us make friends—"

Hisoka didn't quite understand. "I don't go easy on people I spar with." Of course, in all honesty, Hisoka knew he wasn't at full strength and shouldn't use the arm with the dislocated shoulder and broken wrist.

"I wouldn't want you to," Gon snapped. He sounded offended that Hisoka would even consider it.

"Your stance is wrong," Hisoka said the moment Gon went to start.

"Huh?"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You're asking for me to hit you like this."

Gon yelped. Good thing Hisoka wasn't using his full strength, or like, even twenty percent of it.

"You need to work on dodging," Hisoka informed him. Or else there was no point to sparring with Gon.

"I want to land a punch on someone's face," Gon said.

Hisoka snorted. "You're never going to have a chance if you go about it like _that_."

He wasn't certain if this was practice after all, or if it was some kind of lesson. Ah, well. It didn't matter. Seeing Gon's plucky side come out in fighting, the language Hisoka knew best, was at least a distraction and a trailer for perhaps better things to come. The kids at that high school better watch out.

Of course, Hisoka managed to knock Gon down a few times. Not too hard. "Tell you what," Hisoka said. "If you manage to land a punch on me, in my face, I will let you take a picture with me. Not a moment before." At the very least, Gon was less predictable than his usual sparring partners, barring Illumi, who was too busy trying to plot against Hisoka right now.

Gon's jaw dropped. "But you said—"

"You never wanted that," Hisoka said. "You liar, you. Takes one to know one. You wanted me to train you for some reason." He had a few guesses, but they were irrelevant.

Gon threw his fist at Hisoka. Hisoka held up the palm of his injured arm and blocked it, twisting that arm of Gon's enough to make him uncomfortable but not enough to actually hurt him. Gon yelped.

"Deal?" Hisoka asked, digging his fingers in.

"Deal," Gon gasped.

"Good." Hisoka let him go. Gon glowered at him.

When they finished for the day, Hisoka swiftly dodging each of Gon's attacks, Hisoka was tempted to tell Gon to walk home. Except he really should take the kid back to Mito's on his way to Illumi's.

"Why do you like Illumi?" Gon asked. "Killua wonders."

 _That's too adult of a conversation for the likes of you._ "Because he's fun."

"Hisoka Morow!" The voice boomed across the parking lot. Hisoka squinted in the dying sunlight. A chill skipped down his spine, exciting him. A huge man built like a linebacker and with a mop of snow-white hair marched towards him. _Ooh, this could be interesting._

Gon gasped. "That's—"

"I know, Gon." Hisoka leaned back against his car, jangling his keys. "Why are you here, Zoldyck? Are you merely trying to keep up for physique? It is attractive, I'll admit, though not nearly Illumi's level. You're a mite old for that, I'm afraid. Or is this one place your restraining order doesn't cover since—"

Gon covered his ears.

"Don't talk to me like that," Silva snapped. His face burned red with anger. He looked nothing like Illumi. Hisoka wondered if that was partially why Silva didn't love Illumi, why he favored Killua—because Killua was the only child who resembled him.

"Considering Illumi's basically disowning you, you're not a future in-law anymore, so I'll say whatever I please," Hisoka informed him.

Gon frowned.

"I want to talk," Silva said. "That's all I want."

"Too late." Hisoka jabbed his thumb at Gon. "Get in the car, Freecss."

"He's my son," said Silva.

"I mean, your sperm created them, but then that wasn't even enough for you, was it?" Hisoka asked as Gon obeyed. "You still had to mold and carve them into—whatever you wanted of them. Dumb puppets. How dull. Tell me, what do you hate so much in yourself that your kids can't reflect? Actually, on second thought, spare me your sob story. They're never very interesting, anyways." He might have one. Maybe. But it didn't matter to him, and he had chosen that, chosen to write his own story however he saw fit, and fuck the past. "Or was it your wife's side that wasn't quite enough?"

Silva looked as if he'd love nothing more than to punch Hisoka, and Hisoka wanted nothing more than for him to try. _Do it. Do it._ "It's important—we need to—for Illumi's own good—"

"Oh, bull," said Hisoka. " _Boring_. Goodbye, Zoldyck." He jumped into the car and sped off, leaving Silva Zoldyck in the dust.

"What did he want?" Gon asked.

"His kids back, I presume," answered Hisoka. "Tough luck for that one. Can't face any consequences."

Gon snorted.

Should he tell Illumi? Illumi might then be provoked into helping Chrollo even more—or helping Hisoka if he heard he told Silva off again. Hisoka sighed. Why were these decisions so difficult?

Then again, if he said nothing, maybe Silva would go away. Illumi didn't like him around and that was one brand of angst Hisoka didn't find particularly fun. The Zoldycks were shit. "Don't tell Illumi, Gon. Or specifically, don't tell Killua."

"I won't."

Good. He wanted Illumi to focus on _him_ , not on his rotten parents.


	3. Fire and Swords

"I can't believe this is happening again," grumbled Kurapika.

The sun glared down at them, but clouds loomed on the horizon. Thunderclouds. Hisoka couldn't wait for the storm. "Deja vu?" hr taunted. He had to leave to see Illumi soon, but he had to talk to Kurapika first. The brat said he had information for Hisoka, which intrigued him because clearly Kurapika had snuck into Chrollo's house, or locker, or something.

Kurapika crossed his legs at the picnic table they sat at on campus. "I'm not trying to kill anyone this time."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Just yourself." He thought back to the night before, where he didn't tell Illumi about his parents and found it significantly less fun than he'd have thought. Silva and Kikyo weren't amusing in any way, and he didn't like them or keeping it from Illumi, but if he told Illumi, Illumi would be distressed and Hisoka could kiss enjoying time with Illumi goodbye.

"Can you shut the hell up for once?" Kurapika dug through his backpack.

"Does your doctor friend know about what you're up to?" Hisoka asked, irritated with the kid's barbs. He _was_ keeping his mouth shut, just about something else. "He might want to examine your head."

"He might want to examine yours more, though frankly I think it'd just be impossible to make sense of," Kurapika retorted.

Hisoka couldn't resist. "Oh, _does_ he give you exams?"

Kurapika's jaw dropped. "I'm not sure what you're implying—"

"I'm sure you're exactly sure what I'm implying."

Kurapika slammed several printouts down on the table. "You're wrong. It's not like that, we're just friends, but nice try, you pathetic troll."

 _You're just as pathetic as me_. At least he had Illumi to relieve stress. Hisoka held up the files. "Really? Paper? Angry at trees now?"

Kurapika flipped him off with both hands. "Can you consider that you can have friendships without—that?" His face was more scarlet than his eyes could ever be.

"I take my earlier comment back. You're clearly a virgin."

"You're clearly insane."

"Don't get arrested," Hisoka warned, scanning them. Shalnark and Kortopi were both boring people. Though… there was some potentially useful information there for sure.

"I heard you're training Gon," Kurapika said. "He texted me last night. And I just wanted to say that that is a terrible idea and you should—"

"Huh?" Hisoka craned his neck back. "So?"

Kurapika crossed his arms. "You know he and Killua just want to use it to make those kids who've been bullying them back off."

Hisoka set the files down. "Those kids who have been what?" It made perfect sense, like a puzzle piece that fit. He smirked. _Gon, you are such a liar._

Kurapika frowned. "I mean, I suggested he ask you—didn't he tell you?"

"He did not."

"Apparently the kids have read all about what's going on with Killua's parents and have seen fit to make his life hell."

"Killua could kill them if he wanted to," Hisoka pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's trying not to. So Gon is…" Kurapika swallowed. "Look, I just suggested they ask you to learn _defensive_ moves. I won't give you any more help if you teach him anything else, okay? They're kids. They need to not get in as much trouble—they have a future ahead of them—"

"And you don't? Ah right. I forgot. You don't care about your life." Hisoka drummed his fingers on the table. "I guess I can use what you gave me here."

Kurapika looked as if he wanted to punch him. "Great."

"So, are you going to break into some random person's home for the rubies?" Hisoka inquired. A cloud blocked the sun. Finally. "Or rob a bank first to buy them? The latter seems more you."

Kurapika pressed his lips together. "I have a plan." But he wasn't going to tell Hisoka. Clearly.

Hisoka shrugged. "I'll be off then. See you and don't die just yet."

Kurapika dropped back down on the bench, staring at the wood as the wind picked up. That boy needed a therapist more than the Zoldycks did.

Hisoka met Gon at the gym and scowled at him.

"What?" Gon asked innocently.

"I had an interesting chat with Kurapika."

"Kura—" Gon's eyes flashed. "Oh no!"

"Oh yes," said Hisoka. "I imagine Killua doesn't want Illumi to find out?"

Gon scowled. "He's got enough on his mind, and it's nothing he can't handle. I mean, that we can't handle."

"But _I'm_ acceptable to lie to."

Gon's jaw dropped. "You lie all the time!"

"Fair." Hisoka shrugged. He went to roll his shoulder and reminded himself that he couldn't. Pain stabbed through him.

"Are you okay?" Gon wanted to know. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Yeah." He had a match with Kastro to win in a week. And a stupid reporter to shred.

"You don't look it," said Gon.

"Gon, listen, there are times when honesty is not appreciated."

"Oh." Gon's brow furrowed. "But anyways. It's not like I actually—at school today, they were saying there's this dodgeball game that every homeroom has to play in for this tournament, and like, our homeroom teacher's named Wing and he's really nice, but then the guys we don't like are led by this guy named Razor and they're in another homeroom, so Killua and I were thinking we just have to cream them at dodgeball, except neither of us are very good—at least not as good as they are because they're upperclassmen and they win every year or have won every year or so we've been told—"

"Please shut up," Hisoka requested, clamping his hand over Gon's mouth as the kid's mouth kept running. "I will still train you if you stop trying to make excuses." Dodgeball practice would help him keep his agility up, which is what he'd mainly rely on against Kastro anyways.

Gon nodded. Hisoka let him go. Ah, here was the perfect way to get around Kurapika not wanting him to teach Gon aggressive moves and still maintain Kurapika's help. Hisoka was more than aware, after all, that to defeat cowards, you had to come at them first, call them on their flaws, challenge them. And when they weren't afraid, then you could exult in that moment, find a thrill shuddering through your spine because finally, _finally_ , someone who was like you. Like when Hisoka first met Illumi in college on their track team. Everyone else kept dropping out as their coach made them run suicide after suicide, run until they dropped, but neither of them would give up. And the sweat shining on Illumi's face, the way his hair looked pulled back—well, Hisoka decided that he, at least, was worth talking to.

Chrollo was a coward for drugging him.

And Hisoka hated him for making him feel like one, too.

* * *

The next morning, Mito had agreed to take all the kids to school. Illumi and Hisoka got up a bit later than usual, as Illumi was still working from home at his parents' business, though it was sure to fold eventually since his parents were no longer in charge. Hisoka felt like his mind was spinning and it was all because of that fucking fight with Chrollo. Everything had tilted since that fight. Everything was sliding and he did not like it one bit.

 _I'll make him regret that moment as long as he lives,_ Hisoka told himself as he showered. He went to comb gel into his hair with his fingers. It still stung. And the only way to make it not sting was to work off the tension. He wouldn't let this interrupt his life. He'd still fight Kastro. He'd—

Hisoka frowned. He peered at his image in the mirror. His hair wasn't sticking up. It dangled down his neck, waves looser than normal, shiny.

Hisoka squinted at the bottle. It was his normal gel, so why—

"Hisoka!" yelled Illumi's voice.

Hisoka swung the door open, towel wrapped around his waist. Illumi held up a bottle of his anti-frizz product. His hair stuck out in clumps. "Did you switch them?"

Hisoka jabbed his finger at his hair. "What do you think?"

Illumi's eyes narrowed. "They switched them."

"Are you _sure_ I can't kill Killua?" Hisoka asked, staring at his reflection. _Little brat._

Illumi glared at him. His phone rang and Illumi fumbled to answer it. "Hello?" He darted out of the room. Hisoka examined his hair. He didn't mind the look of it being down, but it was definitely—

"Hisoka," said Illumi, reappearing. "Alluka's having a meltdown at the school and they asked me to come." His face was whiter than milk.

Because her security blanket was gone. Killua was in class on a different campus, and there was no way they'd let Illumi take him out of school for this. Hisoka wondered whether Biscuit Krueger expected something like this to happen when she suggested public school, as a test for Illumi, see how he would handle it. She was craftier than she appeared.

"I'll go with you," Hisoka offered. This would be fun to see. A test of Illumi's limits.

Illumi nodded as if that Hisoka would say that was never in doubt.

The middle school was a depressing block of cells known as classrooms with plain walls and ugly lockers. Hisoka spent the bare minimum of time in school as he could, and took his equivalency exams as soon as he was able. Fortunately he did well enough to get into college.

Illumi and Hisoka were ushered into the principal's office, but not before some of the kids in the hallways pointed to Hisoka's makeup and whispered. He smirked.

Alluka curled up on a bench in the office, sobbing into her knees. Kalluto stood nearby, wringing his hands. He looked up at Illumi and Hisoka and his jaw dropped, though his eyes gleamed. "Your hair looks weird."

"I'm aware," Illumi responded. "What happened?"

"Kalluto, go back to class," ordered the principal, a man with golden hair, a fuschia suit that offended even Hisoka, and a face Hisoka thought resembled a weasel. "I'm Pariston Hill."

"Go, Kalluto," Illumi said. He reached for Alluka's shoulder, awkwardly resting his hand on it. Slight confusion crept over his face. Kalluto's shoulders slumped as he slipped out of the room. Kalluto glanced back at Alluka, desperate.

"Who is this?" asked Pariston, gesturing to Hisoka. Pariston shut the door on Kalluto.

"Illumi's boyfriend," Hisoka answered.

"Alluka threatened to take out a boy's liver," Pariston said. "Such a threat of violence is I believe not the first—"

Hisoka glanced at Illumi, knowing he would have made the same argument at this principal many times. _What's it gonna be today, hmm?_

"Alluka's been through a lot," Illumi stated. "And we addressed the issue before school—"

"He called Kalluto a girl and me a boy and said that we were—" Alluka screwed up her face.

"Why isn't _he_ in the principal's office?" Illumi asked, seizing that information.

Pariston tsked. "Such a threat of violence means Alluka is suspended for the day, on request of the boy's parents."

"And how do they even know?" asked Hisoka, leaning back against the wall. Filled with bookshelves collecting dust and books that had clearly never been read. This guy was no genius despite being a principal. He was probably the kind of guy to bribe his way to power, or sleep his way to it. He probably had his eye on a certain council seat as well, eventually. But until they he was stuck here. Hisoka hoped Alluka and Kalluto would make Pariston's life hell.

"He called them."

"And that's typically allowed?" Not unless they'd really relaxed the rules the past ten, fifteen years. Hisoka knew all the rules, because he knew how to best break them.

"He was upset," said Pariston. "Anyone would be after such a—"

"Did she actually attempt violence?" Illumi asked.

"No—"

"Then I believe you're taking out what my parents did on her and also perhaps to the school system on her, which is unfair," Illumi stated. "I'll have you know I still have friends in the city council."

Pariston's eyes bulged. "Are you threatening me?"

"He's not," said Hisoka. "Trust me, if he was, you wouldn't be questioning it."

"I won't protest her current suspension," said Illumi. "But I'll be contacting her teacher myself." He grabbed Alluka's arm. "Come on."

She shook her head wildly, flapping her hands. "I don't want to—go back—I'm scared—the vault is—"

"I won't put you back there," Illumi promised, crouching down in front of her. His eyes lasered Hisoka. _Help._

Hisoka lifted his hands. How could he help in this situation?

"I want to—then I won't hurt anyone—Killua will be sad—"

Illumi's face stiffened. "You won't hurt anyone. You didn't, and that boy hurt you." He pried Alluka's hands off her face. "Killua won't be sad. And I won't let you hurt anyone, okay?" He frowned and muttered to himself: "I think I'm allowed to be controlling about that."

Hisoka snorted.

Alluka stared at him, her blue eyes streaming. "I wish—if I were normal—I heard Mother saying if then—"

"Normal's dumb," said Hisoka, tapping his makeup.

Alluka's lips formed a smile. She yawned.

Illumi picked her up, carrying her out of the office. Hisoka twisted his already-busted ankle and stumbled, knocking Pariston Hill's coffee all over his keyboard. "Oh my. How clumsy of me."

" _Bastard!"_

" _Principal Hill, the children!"_ shrieked the secretaries.

"Niisan?" asked Alluka as Illumi started the car. "Are you mad at me?"

Illumi glanced in the rearview mirror, exhaling. "No."

"Niisan," said Alluka. "Do you like me? I know Killua likes me and Milluki likes that I can help with his games and Kalluto with games, but do you like me? Now I mean, I know you didn't used to."

This was getting uncomfortable for Hisoka. He twitched.

"Yes," Illumi said quietly. "Alluka, I like you."

 _Liar. Or..._

 _You just hate yourself,_ Hisoka observed.

* * *

"Where's Alluka?" Killua burst into the house, Kalluto on his heels.

"Heard the story?" Hisoka asked, sitting on the couch next to Illumi.

"She's asleep," Illumi said. "She needed rest."

Kalluto wrung his sash. "I'm sorry—I couldn't—protect her, Killua." His pink eyes scrabbled for any sign of displeasure in his older brother.

Killua stiffened. "It's not your fault, Kalluto." He reached out and wrapped his arms around his brother. Kalluto sniffled.

"Hey Killua," Hisoka said, turning a card over and over again in his hand, the edges scraping his skin. "Do you have something you might want to share with your brother? Or with Alluka, maybe along the lines of, oh, I don't know, that you can relate?" Gon would be pissed at him, but Hisoka didn't care. He still needed Hisoka to help him with that dodgeball thing.

Killua's eyes narrowed.

"What?" Illumi straightened. "Kil?"

"Or I could just tip off Biscuit Krueger to look for bruises and then I'm sure they'd draw conclusions you might rather they not," Hisoka drawled, tapping the card against his chin. Truly, it was interesting to see an officer like Krueger who _actually_ tried to protect children. He certainly was more familiar with the other kind.

"Bruises?" Illumi leapt to his feet.

"Hisoka, you dumbass clown!" yelled Killua, yanking his arms away from Illumi, but not before Illumi had already yanked up his sweatshirt to see a bruise on his forearm. "Stop! I'm fine!"

"They don't like you either?" Kalluto asked. "I thought for sure they would. You're better than the rest of us."

Killua gripped his hair. "No, I'm not!"

"What's going on?" Illumi demanded.

Killua looked like he was about to cry. Hisoka grabbed Illumi and dragged him back over to the couch, forcing him to sit. Killua dropped onto the floor. "Some kids—Mother and Father—they've seen the news and they don't like them and they don't like me because of it. Also one of my classmate's grandparents died when the company denied her insurance. Gon's my friend, and this kid named Zushi, but—"

Illumi's face drained.

"It's honestly fine," Killua said, scrambling to his feet again. "I can handle it."

"It's my fault," Illumi whispered.

"Congratulations on realizing that," Hisoka said. Except it wasn't. Not really. Well, somewhat.

"Shut up," Killua told him.

"Mother and Father always said I'd help—when I turned people down it'd be helping the company, and them, and the family—I never thought it would affect you like this." Illumi clamped his hand over his mouth. "I should not have done this. I should not be subjecting you to my presence. I should—I should—"

"What's the alternative, a foster home?" Killua demanded. "Hey! Get it together, Illumi!" He grabbed his brother's shoulders.

Illumi met Killua's eyes, his own black and terrified. Hisoka didn't know what to say or do. He should record this. But his hand wouldn't move. Dislocated, remember? He couldn't move it. It'd help him out later if he didn't. He shouldn't risk re-injuring it.

"I can tell them to leave you alone," Illumi tried.

"Don't bother stooping to their level," said Hisoka. "I'm a better candidate for that."

"Or you can let me handle it!" Killua burst out. "Illumi, I can do it! Please—please—let me try this on my own! Like Dr. Yorkshire says, I should be able to take age-appropriate risks—"

Illumi swallowed.

"To tell the truth," said Hisoka. "Gon and I are working on a plan."

Illumi looked as if he'd like to throw a needle at Hisoka as he explained about the dodgeball game. Illumi should tell Chrollo. He probably would. Killua smiled.

"Well, I suppose," Illumi said, voice doubtful.

"We can all help," said Kalluto. "I mean, me and Milluki and Alluka might be mostly fodder but we can try!"

"Okay," Killua agreed. Hisoka bit his lip. Blood tasted bitter.

"You should tell me," said Illumi. "What kind of pain I caused. I know I am controlling. Dr. Yorkshire says so. But I don't know when I'm still hurting you and when I'm not and when I should be setting boundaries and when I should be—"

Killua snorted. "I'm a teenager. I'm supposed to yell at you for any rules."

Illumi furrowed his brow.

"Or just break them without him finding out," Hisoka supplied. "Though that's less fun."

"I will kill you," Illumi warned Hisoka.

"Just let me be myself," Killua said. "Like for planning classes to take, or for small conflicts like this—I can handle them." He swallowed. "If I can't, I'll—try to do better about asking you for help, okay? Like it's hard to right now because I still don't know if you'll overreact and—but we can both work on that—"

Illumi nodded. "That sounds acceptable." He looked down at Kalluto. "You, too?"

Kalluto nodded, flushing that his brother had actually asked him for an opinion.

"Thanks for getting Alluka," said Killua.

"Ah," said Illumi. "She's my sister, so."

Killua narrowed his eyes. Illumi gulped. And then Killua leaned against Illumi, and Illumi looked as if he had died and gone to heaven.

Something settled in Hisoka's chest, a strange feeling, heavy and foggy, and he couldn't quite figure out what it was. He didn't like it. It reminded him of things he would rather forget.

"Oh," said Illumi, frowning again. "Which one of you switched our hair products?"

Killua did a double take at the two of them. He burst into laughter.

"Milluki paid me to do it," Kalluto admitted.

"Milluki!" Illumi leaped to his feet. " _Get up here right now."_

Thunder rumbled again outside. Hisoka leaned back, crossing his arms behind his skull and ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder and ache in his wrist. He listened to Alluka running down the stairs, to Killua promising to help her feel better and that leading to her and Kalluto forcing Killua to regret his life choices when he had no choice but to agree to let them dress him up in one of Kalluto's kimonos. Illumi berated Milluki and took away his gaming device for the next week, telling a protesting Milluki that if he was truly not a child he ought to act like it.

The Zoldyck human disasters were always so interesting.


	4. Contortion

**Thanks for reading! This chapter does have some NSFW content.**

 **A summary: when struggling to communicate, resort to the language Hisoka knows best.**

* * *

"Ow!" complained Gon, falling back onto his ass. "No fair!" He rubbed his elbow.

"Do you expect your bullies to fight fair?" Hisoka asked, tossing the ball up in the air and catching it.

Gon shrugged. "I guess not." He hauled himself to his feet. "Again?"

"I think you're done for the day." Hisoka tucked the ball under his arm. "Go home. Find your own way; I'm not giving you a ride today."

"Mm, okay." Gon nodded as if he didn't mind. If it were Killua, Killua would have badgered him until Hisoka was tempted to strangle him.

Three days. Gon had three days, and Hisoka had four until his match with Kastro and his blasted shoulder still hurt like a bitch. And then he'd be free of this kid except for when he hung around Illumi's which was always, so not really. Not that Hisoka minded exactly, because Gon was intriguing as hell, but he'd rather be surprised by Gon than train him himself. Plus he was in no position to be any kind of mentor.

Gon left, and Hisoka showered. Illumi had therapy again, which meant Hisoka definitely wanted to stop by the Zoldyck lair and see the aftermath of that implosion. It was so intriguing to Hisoka that Illumi would go so far for his siblings. He'd always said he would, of course, but deep down Hisoka knew Illumi was just like him and everything he did was for himself, but concealed, unlike the flagrant selfishness by which Hisoka unabashedly operated.

"Yo, Idiot," said Machi's voice when Hisoka left the locker room.

He spun around. "Hoping to get a glimpse?"

"I'd sooner gouge my own eyes out, you useless clown." She crossed her arms, prying herself off the wall. "But I thought you might need someone to warn you."

"Oh?" Was Chrollo making his next move? This could be very—

Machi waved her tablet around in his face. "I figured you wouldn't have noticed, but I thought you might need to—"

Hisoka guffawed. "If Chrollo thinks he can use that pathetic news site to—"

"This is the last time I ever try to help you," Machi snapped. "You're an ungrateful, stupid toddler of a man—"

Hisoka's gaze caught on the image in the article. He grabbed her tablet.

"Hey!"

It was Silva. Talking to Hisoka. He arched his eyebrows. "Are these the levels of pathetic Chrollo is sinking to?"

"Insult him again and I'll break your kneecaps."

He held the tablet up in the air, way higher than Machi could reach. "I'll break your tablet."

She refused to jump for it, crossing her arms and scowling at him like an indignant piece of cotton candy.

"What's the point of this?" Hisoka asked. "Spreading the idea I'm collaborating with Silva and Kikyo against Illumi?"

"I think it's more likely it looks like Illumi's working through you."

Hisoka rolled his eyes and handed her tablet back to her. "Gon was there. Nothing like that happened." Though it would certainly be interesting to see Illumi's reaction.

"Sure, but that's just a threat. You don't remember what happened when you fought Chrollo, do you?"

"No, because it wasn't worth remembering."

"You are just a sore loser."

"I didn't lose. He—"

Machi threw her hands up in the air. "Well, whatever. You said some things, Hisoka. That Chrollo could definitely get a story out of if he wanted to but he'd rather not just yet. Because he's being patient with you—"

"I doubt it." Hisoka pushed past her.

"You don't remember, so how would you know?" Machi hollered. "You're a goddamn idiot!"

He flipped her off. The moment he jumped into his car, slamming the door, he cussed. Chrollo wouldn't win. He couldn't win. His shoulder burned and Hisoka gritted his teeth, twisting the keys in the ignition so hard the metal dug into his skin. The shithead thought he was entitled to know everything, did he? Well, he wasn't. _Prick_.

Why did he have to stir up everything? His shoulder was still fucked up but he would still win. He would. He was trying to fuck things up for Illumi but Illumi was smarter than that and Chrollo was a dumbass if he thought everyone was like him and could be upset so easily.

Fuck. He'd asked Illumi to help Chrollo. Illumi might not want to now.

Hisoka stopped and bought a case of beer. He was going to need it tonight.

He remembered the first time he met Chrollo Lucilfer by following this ridiculous theater major named Omikage to the secret meeting. Everyone on campus had been wondering who was publishing the news about which professors were sleeping with their students and which were accepting bribes and how the board conspired to force one of them to resign and covered up for another one. It took Hisoka less than three days to figure it out once he became intrigued, which was only because of his crashing the campus grading program and because he was curious to see whether Chrollo would report it and if he would get caught then, and if so, if they could prove it. Chrollo didn't, he didn't, and they wouldn't have been able to, but instead of seeing the dick school dean's frustrated face when Hisoka beat any charges, he decided he would rather see Chrollo's face when Hisoka ruined his life. Also Machi was hot, but he was never getting anywhere with her.

He worked with Chrollo for a bit, and then he got bored and scrambled their entire system, plus outed Chrollo to the school. Chrollo beat the charges and laughed about it. A kid from Meteor City, of course the school wasn't thrilled about having him there any more than they were thrilled to have Hisoka. But Chrollo used that to his advantage, writing sob stories for any personal essays and using them to get into school, or so he said. Hisoka preferred to keep any of that shit smothered.

His phone rang. Kurta. "Yes?"

"I saw," said Kurapika.

 _Don't give me your pity_.

 _I am not like you. I am not like you at all. I am me._ His fingers pressed the star on his cheek.

"Are you gonna use the information I gave you?" asked Kurapika. "Because if you are, using it now might be a good idea."

"I'm not letting Chrollo push me around," Hisoka purred. "He's not worth it. I'll do things when I want." Maybe it'd be fun to see how much Chrollo could push him. So long as Hisoka won in the end. And he would. He had to. Losing wasn't fun. Losing was what everyone else did.

"Fine then." Kurapika hung up.

He went in the front door of the Zoldyck house this time. That would surely surprise Illumi, who was probably tapping his foot waiting in the bedroom for him.

"Hey," said Kalluto, dashing up the stairs. Oh right. That kid hung around Chrollo for whatever reason.

"Clown!" Alluka threw herself at him. "Guess what? Today the mean boy called me a boy again so I used an uppercut like Killua showed me you did back when you boxed too so I used that and he fell and he was crying and he didn't report it because he was embarrassed." She clasped her hands.

 _See, Chrollo? I win_. "I'm glad," Hisoka said, patting her head.

"Hey," said Killua, walking into the room. "Illumi's upstairs. Milluki, you're on dinner duty tonight!" he hollered.

Milluki groaned.

 _Great,_ canned soup for dinner.

Hisoka left the beer in the fridge first and walked into Illumi's room. Where he crossed his arms, waiting.

"Do you need to talk to Gon to hear what happened?" Hisoka asked.

"I already did. Killua called him." Illumi leaned back. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Hisoka shrugged. "I'd rather see your reaction if you found out, and you didn't need to know. I told that dick off, if you were curious."

"I know." Illumi exhaled. "It's fine."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Well, now you're just saying that. Old habits die hard, eh, puppet?"

"Why would I be mad? I have no reason to be. It's logical that—"

"Oh, who gives a damn about should have and what you think you're supposed to feel? Just let yourself feel what you feel, Illumi. That's what I do." Hisoka ran his hand over his hair. He would die to see that. An Illumi actually passionate about something. But then, that might not be Illumi.

Illumi scowled. "I have responsibilities."

"Ah, shit." Hisoka smirked. "Did therapy suck again?"

"Actually, Dr. Yorkshire says you're good for me, which is precisely why I was contemplating breaking up with you."

Hisoka laughed. Illumi smiled. Illumi wasn't a bad joker.

"I decided I didn't want to," Illumi said.

 _Oh, so you were serious_. Hisoka laughed again. He leaned against the closet door, Illumi sitting on the bed across from him.

"Chrollo's a prick, and I'm not helping him anymore," Illumi said, folding his arms. "He's helping my parents' case by stirring up these kinds of—"

"You have to!" Hisoka grabbed Illumi's arms. "I want to—have all the odds stacked against me—and still win. Still beat that arrogant bastard."

"If the odds aren't stacked against you is it somehow less a victory? Isn't it the same result?"

"Yes," Hisoka said. "I've made up my mind."

"Aren't you always changing your mind?"

"Machi said he has more articles planned if I don't stop," Hisoka said. "So I will stop him."

Illumi stiffened. "Articles about what?"

"Not you."

Illumi arched his eyebrows. God, they were so overplucked. "We should have made sure he didn't beat the charges in college. He could have been thrown out."

"That wouldn't have stopped him."

"No, but at least he'd know." Illumi tilted his head back. "We make a decent team."

Hisoka wasn't sure what to say to that. He operated alone. Even in college. "Mm."

"If you want all the odds against you," said Illumi, tossing his hair. Hisoka eyed it appreciatively. "Why don't you break your own bones then?"

"I've dealt with enough broken bones."

Illumi rose. "Why don't you dislocate your other shoulder? I'm sure it'd give Kastro a shock when you still show up to fight with two dislocated shoulders. And I'm sure Chrollo would love to report on it. I could do it for you." He gripped Hisoka's shoulder, fingers digging into skin.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His face was centimeters from Illumi's.

"You could paralyze yourself," said Illumi. "Blind yourself. Or I could, and you'd—"

"You'd love it," said Hisoka. "Leaving me on the streets to die."

Illumi pressed his fingers into Hisoka's back. "I'd actually just get Kalluto and Alluka to paint your face in makeup, but I don't think you'd mind."

He snorted. "So I'd still be here? An invalid defeated by his supposed partner?"

"Yes," said Illumi, as if it was obvious. "But I couldn't then let myself strangle you, so—"

Hisoka dove in, capturing Illumi's words with his mouth. Illumi groaned. He tightened his grip on Hisoka's shoulders—both shoulders. Hisoka winced, and Illumi let the injured one go. He pushed Hisoka back against the wall. Hisoka liked this. This was a new spice for Illumi, taking control, the exact aroma that attracted Hisoka to Illumi back in their college days. He was strong. Confident. Self-assured.

 _And if I was weak, you'd still keep me around to mock me? If I was broken?_

Hisoka pushed back against Illumi, teeth clacking against his. He tasted blood in Illumi's mouth. Illumi tumbled backwards onto the bed and dug his hands into Hisoka's back. He kneed him in the abdomen, forcing him to turn over so Illumi was over him now, lips still pressing into Hisoka's, harder and harder and harder.

 _You just want to control me._

 _Maybe I don't mind right now._

Illumi's fingers tore through his hair, yanking at it. His scalp stung. "You look better with your hair down."

"That's rich coming from you."

Illumi snorted. He pulled Hisoka's shirt off. His mouth found his bruised shoulder, kissing. Gently. That was new.

 _What are you doing?_

Hisoka sat up, yanking Illumi's shirt open. He ran his hands down Illumi's sculpted abs, comparable only to his own. He grunted as Illumi pushed him back, pushed him down, pinning his wrists above his head.

"You want me to listen to what I feel and what I want," said Illumi. "I'm going to help _you_ , not Chrollo, you idiot clown."

"Illumi, it's not fair to argue this right now," Hisoka panted. His body was straining as he looked up at Illumi.

"You never fight fair." Illumi fumbled to grab the condoms he kept in his drawer. He paused. "Can I?"

"If you don't pause again," Hisoka snapped.

Illumi dove down and kissed him, wet, heavy, panting. He pulled Hisoka's pants down to his knees, and his own. Hisoka thrust his head back when Illumi started. He'd always wanted to see this, see what Illumi's face would be like when he was in control of sex.

His face looked the exact same as the other times they'd fucked, despite the different angle. His lips curved up in a smile. Hisoka grunted his name, determined to leave his mark on Illumi's skin.

He pulled Illumi close, an arm around his waist, when they both started shaking. His shoulder throbbed and he didn't care.

Milluki grumpily yelled about dinner being ready and they both scrambled into clothes, Hisoka leaving his hair mussed. Illumi rolled his eyes.

"You know," Hisoka said later, when everyone except Milluki had gone to sleep. "Something you said earlier is really begging the question: have Kalluto and Alluka painted your face with makeup?"

Illumi paused, a hairbrush in his grip. "I decline to answer." He went back to brushing with long, smooth strokes.

"There are truly no limits to what you would do to make it up to your siblings, would you?"

"I'm still trying to figure out what I have to make up for and what I don't. Dr. Yorkshire says it's pointless though." Illumi set the brush down carefully, arranging it so that it lined up perfectly with the edge of the dresser.

"I demand pictures."

"That's a limit I would not cross."

"We're over then. I'm breaking up with you."

Illumi snorted. He lied down next to Hisoka.

"What did the good doctor say today?" Hisoka asked, flicking off the light. "Since you seemed not pissy for once."

"Hm." Illumi was quiet for a moment. "It was a session with just me, for one, and she said you were good because you don't live up to expectations and I always have—well, my parents, anyways."

"On the contrary. I like shattering people's expectations," Hisoka said.

Illumi turned to him, a strand of onyx hair covering his eye. "What do you like about it?"

"It makes life exciting."

"Was your life so boring before?"

Hisoka stiffened. "Where is this going?"

"What does Chrollo have on you?" Illumi sat up. "I'll make him pay. I'll—"

 _What am I to you? Just your newest obsession, a replacement for your parents and Killua?_ Hisoka opened his mouth, but he didn't launch that barb. He'd save it for later. "I genuinely have no idea. I can't remember the fight." And just thinking about it made dinner sour in his stomach.

"Okay." Illumi wasn't happy. Hisoka couldn't decide if he ought to bolt or continue to see how long Illumi would let him stay if he kept dodging all of these arrows.

"We should do that again," Hisoka said, changing the subject. "You and me—mix it up—"

"Am I boring for you?"

"No." Not at all. Even though Illumi was clearly far less experienced than Hisoka. "I'm still fucking you after a few months, Illumi. I really wouldn't stick around if you were." That would hurt Illumi. Hisoka bit his lip. He wouldn't stick around, would he?

"How long do these usually last for you?"

"I don't know." Hisoka craned his neck back. "How many people have you been with, Illumi?"

"Huh?"

"I remember that conversation we had with Chrollo that time. You said you'd fucked people for work. How many times?"

"Ah. Just three. Two women, one man. One of the women and the man were attractive." Illumi sighed. "All of them came around, and the business deal was made. So it worked out fine."

"Did you like it with any of them?"

"Are you asking me if you are the best sex I've ever had?" Derision coated Illumi's words. "You're truly pathetic."

"I still want an answer." If the lights were on Hisoka felt certain Illumi's face would be either blood red or pale white and he was loving it.

"I never particularly looked forward to it until you."

Hisoka held his hand up, flicking his nails as he aimed his fingers at the dark ceiling. "I'll take that as a yes." He waited. "Don't you have something to ask me?"

"You basically gave me your answer already."

Hisoka scowled.

"How many for you, then?" Illumi asked. "This is your chance to brag."

"Hundreds." Hisoka smirked. "Only a few memorable, though." He exhaled.

"Have you ever been tested?" Illumi asked.

"Whoa." Hisoka sat up. "First of all, we've used condoms. Second of all, yes, frequently, thank you for worrying for my health."

"I was just saying we could do away with condoms in that case."

 _Does that mean you think we're monogamous? You have to know this is give and take, right?_ Not that he'd really thought about it that way before. Or considered fucking anyone else. Being with Illumi made him... it was fun.

 _I guess we are._

Well, there was a first time for everything. It wasn't a terrible hat to try on.

"It was my idea," Illumi said. "To use sex to get what I wanted. Starting on my internship when I was nineteen."

"Please tell me none of them were ever our professors or—"

"No!" Illumi sounded offended.

"Oh thank God." Hisoka snorted.

"How old were you?" Illumi asked.

"Hm?" Hisoka lay back down, crossing his arms.

"Your first time. Were you even in high school yet?"

Hisoka slid his eyes in Illumi's direction. "If I said no, what would you think?" His tone was light.

Illumi's gaze bore into him. "How old were you?"

"I don't really think about it very much." Hisoka did not want to discuss the past. At all.

Illumi's voice sounded restrained when he spoke. "How—"

"Let's play a game," Hisoka said, sitting up and flicking on the light. Illumi yelped, covering his eyes. "Cards. War, or something."

Illumi sat up too. "Okay."

Illumi won every round, and Hisoka found he didn't mind.


	5. Puppets

Tomorrow.

Hisoka's shoulder felt as if it'd been shredded from the inside with a set of beater blades. But he just had to train Gon that afternoon, and then the next day was Gon's dodgeball tournament, and the day after was his fight with Kastro, and then he could—well, he couldn't rest very long. He couldn't give Chrollo that satisfaction. _I'm still me despite your pathetic attempt to disarm me, Chrollo._

"If you keep working so hard—" Netero's voice interrupted.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake._ Hisoka gritted his teeth as he turned around. "Do you live here?"

"Across the street, actually." He wiped his forehead. His tank top really was too tight and too sweat stained. Hisoka wrinkled his nose. "But if you keep working so hard, you'll run your body into the dust, Hisoka."

"I'm here for a good time, not a long time," Hisoka recited with a wink. Especially if that meant he turned out like Netero. Though dying didn't really appeal to him either.

"Then you're a fool," said Netero.

"A clown," Hisoka corrected. He gave a mock-bow. "I'm sure you'll still be here when I return with my young friend this afternoon." His hair, damp, stuck to the back of his neck.

"Indeed."

Oh, brother. This idiot was going to insist on being holier-than-thou, wasn't he? Well, being holy wasn't a contest Hisoka was ever going to sign up for, so Netero was stupid. Hisoka couldn't resist. "Maybe you should take more care of your arthritic body, then."

Netero snorted. "You don't need to train so hard. Kastro won't mind postponing the match, you know."

Hisoka blew out his breath, shoving his shirt into his gym bag. "I'm not doing it because of Kastro. He's not worthy of my consideration; he doesn't have a chance." _That's more something you would worry about, but I'm not you, and that's where you can't understand me. I'm me._

"Well, you're certainly not doing it for yourself."

Hisoka paused, towel in his hand. The fabric suddenly felt rough, coarse against even the calloused skin of his fingers. "On the contrary." He wouldn't let anyone say Chrollo had gotten the better of him. He hadn't. Chrollo cheated like the cowardly skunk he was. He even looked like a skunk, with that ridiculous coat and the pretentious combover he insisted on in college to make a statement. At least that was gone now. He'd be less appetizing to fight when he looked so ridiculous.

 _It's for me. I'm taking this Kastro fight and then the next and the next and the next as practice until I defeat Chrollo too._

"What more do you have to prove?" Netero asked.

"Hm?" Hisoka rolled the towel up and grabbed his water bottle. He glugged some down. The cool liquid calmed his throat. His heart still pounded and he didn't like it, a reminder that something other than his own willpower kept him alive.

Netero managed a small smile on that wrinkled face. "I mean, Hisoka-kun, you may have been drugged and shouting nonsense, but you still managed to land enough blows on Chrollo Lucilfer to fracture his rib."

Hisoka blinked. _I did?_ He hadn't known that.

"I know you can't remember," said Netero. "But I should tell you I treated both of you that day. He was not unharmed. Even drugged, you fought well. Don't throw your body and your mind away for—"

"Don't tell me what to do," Hisoka snapped. "I do what I want." Had the idiot actually had the nerve to call him Hisoka-kun? _You arrogant assuming bas_ —

Netero held his hands up, fingers spread apart. "You have so much more potential than this. I don't like seeing such potential wasted."

Gon appeared in Hisoka's mind. He could punch Netero. _Are you trying to use my own_ — Hisoka gritted his teeth. "I don't like sanctimony. Keep it up and you'll find out what it's like to be on my bad side."

"Don't let Chrollo define your life," said Netero, easing himself down on the wooden bench with a sigh.

"I won't," said Hisoka. "That's why I'm going to prove it didn't matter. And I'm going to get him back."

"Why do you have to be the strongest?"

 _Why?_

 _Because the strongest survive._

 _And the strongest have the best chance of smiling and feeling the sun against their skin._

Because strength got you food, or at the very least bungee gum to chew to feel like you had food in your stomach, and a place to sleep. Strength meant not being chased down. Strength meant an end to alleys and to unnecessary, humiliating pain. Strength meant a challenge, because you could always become stronger. Strength was a rope attaching him to life—no, not just attaching him, but gum sticking him to life, letting him feel things, letting him be a part while also looking down on the mess that was this whole goddamn fucking world. A mess with things still worth enjoying, feeling, bathing in.

"Because I am," Hisoka said.

 _The strongest survive._

 _The strongest don't cry, because they have no reason to cry._

 _The strongest don't need to hear no, because they can get what they want, no matter what._

 _The strongest live. Their hearts beat and their lungs fill._

"And because he's a coward," Hisoka added. Strength couldn't lose to cowardice.

 _Face me like a man._

 _Okay,_ he said, spitting blood, curling a broken fist. Lightning flashed above.

"Did you know," Netero said, leaning back on his hands. "That the most cowardly among us refuse to look at their own weaknesses?"

Hisoka snorted. "Maybe you should find a zen meditation center or someone who cares." He thought about patting Netero on the head, giving the man a slab of his own disgusting slimy condescension. But in his mood he'd probably bash the old man's skull in, and he didn't feel like calling Illumi to bail him out of jail. Chrollo would find it funny. And besides, it would be a waste for his shoulder.

Netero watched him go, a solemn look on his face.

He stepped into the parking lot, squinting in the sun. The air was much cooler than the azure sky hinted at. It felt good against his shoulder. He marched towards his car.

"Hisoka Morow!"

He skidded to a halt. A groan emerged. What _was_ this, trample-on-fun day? First Netero and now _this_.

Biscuit Krueger stormed toward him, her scowl far too intimidating for a girl of her size.

"Why hello," he greeted her. "Come to gawk or—"

"Come to talk to you about the report—"

"It's fabricated, and you can address it with Gon Freecss if you don't believe me, since he was there." Hisoka fluffed his hair.

"You lie for fun; who would believe you?"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "I'm off."

"No." Biscuit moved to block his path, her hands on her hips and pink eyes dark and glittering. She almost looked intimidating. "What did Silva ask of you?"

"Who said he asked anything?" Hisoka winked and sidestepped her.

She blocked his car door now. _Oh, come on_! He was very tempted to just pick her up and move her out of the way. "If you say something, it can help Illumi. They have hired the best lawyers, you know. Or hasn't your boyfriend told you?"

"He probably mentioned it." Or had he? Hisoka didn't recall those exact words. Just a plea bargain. Though it was entirely possible Illumi had brought it up and he just didn't recall.

Biscuit lasered her gaze on him. "Too busy focusing on fighting or whatever dick-measuring contest you're involved in now?"

Hisoka snickered. He hadn't expected to hear that word come from Biscuit Krueger's mouth.

"Did he offer you something, or ask you for information about Illumi?"

Hisoka crossed his arms. "A woman of your intelligence ought to already know that before asking."

"But you said nothing."

"Correct."

"Why?"

 _Why?_ Hisoka scowled. "Because I didn't want to. The Zoldyck parents want to make Illumi boring and—"

"Oh, shut it." Biscuit crossed her arms. "I suppose making a report to the police is not in the cards for you? Pun intended?"

"Nope." He moved towards the car.

She stepped to the side. "And if I asked you to refuse all contact with the Zoldyck parents and report whenever they attempted it again, because they _will_ try again, you wouldn't agree, or at least, you wouldn't keep that agreement, would you?"

"I might." He unlocked the door. "Or I might not."

"Right," said Biscuit in disgust. "Depending on what you feel will be the most fun. Will Illumi be more interesting fighting a long court battle or once that burden is gone forever? You're so predictable. You're the one that's boring."

Hisoka stopped, glaring at her. The keys dangled from his hand.

"You never change," Biscuit informed him. "You'll grow more extreme in your exhaustive search for fun but that's not change. Now, change would actually be interesting, but instead you'll settle for a cheap substitute and fall down dead from exhaustion when you've broken yourself to the point where you can't take another step—no, to the point where you can't even _drag_ yourself forward anymore. It's absolutely pathetic how boring you are, and no one will be interested in watching you lying face down in the dirt."

Hisoka slammed the car door and jammed the keys in the ignition. Biscuit Krueger was a stupid bitch who didn't know anything, stuck in her boring office job—

He gripped the wheel, tendons throbbing, shoulder screaming. He wanted to dump ice on it, make it stop. Feel less.

 _What is this?_

 _I don't like it._

He thought of Illumi's words the night before, his questions. Hisoka swore. He'd seen numerous people at the end of their pathetic lives, clinging to anything, a bottle, a person's ankle, begging, dragging themselves, too stubborn to realize their lives were over.

 _I won't be like that. I'm strong. I will be strong. I will be the strongest._

He remembered watching a woman on the streets who said she'd been there for years, and wondering if this was all there was. And he saw a circus across the street, and refused to believe that. For that old crone, maybe.

Not for him.

* * *

"Hey," said Illumi when Hisoka and Gon showed up at the gym.

 _Please tell me Biscuit didn't call you._ "Why are you here?" Hisoka greeted him. No, that wasn't good. He should be excited at the—

"We're all here," said Milluki. "I've been dragged away from shooting zombies with the promise of having my Nintendo returned. Illumi says Killua and Gon need to practice for a dodgeball game."

Kalluto smirked. Killua scowled as if he wasn't entirely okay with his siblings helping him.

Well, this could be interesting. Hisoka looked to Gon, who nodded.

"I also called your other—friends," said Illumi, the word friends stilted but still, said. "Leorio and Kurapika should be inside."

So Ruby Rage had decided to take an off day. Would wonders never cease.

"I had a date today at lunch," Gon announced. "A senior girl named Palm—"

"She's a creepy stalker!" Killua interjected.

 _Are you jealous?_ Hisoka smirked. Gon's fist flew towards Hisoka's face. Hisoka grabbed it. "That wasn't even a good try."

"Did you challenge him to punch you in the face?" asked Illumi.

"Why?" gasped Alluka.

"Long story."

"Why don't we do kids versus adults," Killua suggested. "Kalluto, Alluka, Gon, and me, plus Kurapika against-"

"Leorio probably doesn't want to be with us," said Hisoka. "So why don't we do Illumi, me, and Milluki against you?"

"So basically us against them," Illumi observed, tying his hair back and exposing his face and the back of his neck. Hisoka was getting turned on.

"Hey!" shouted Milluki. "I count!"

"Not really," Hisoka informed him.

"Really, if we went for Alluka, Killua would—but I—" Illumi stopped.

"It's a game, Illumi. It's not real life."

"Isn't life a game for you?" Illumi held the ball in his hand, a frown on his face. Kurapika hugged Gon and Killua. He ignored Hisoka. Leorio chattered about his biology class.

"When it suits me."

Killua took Milluki out first. He heaved a sigh of relief and went to the side to play on his phone, or whatever he was doing with that thing. Hisoka took out Leorio next, and then Alluka. Killua glared at him. Alluka was laughing, though, and went to watch whatever Milluki was doing.

Kalluto would be easiest, Hisoka was sure. Except Kalluto caught the ball, sending Illumi out. Illumi's jaw dropped.

"Avenge him," called Milluki, as if he was actually paying attention.

 _Me against everyone._ Perfect. Hisoka decided not to go for Kalluto just yet. The little brat had a self-satisfied smirk and kept glancing at Killua for approval. Killua gave him a thumbs up and Kalluto looked as if he was in heaven.

Hisoka knocked Kurapika out with ease. Kurapika glowered. And then Kalluto got ready, because surely Hisoka would—but no, Hisoka targeted Killua. And then it was just Kalluto and Gon, and he could finally avenge Illumi.

Gon put up a decent fight, but Hisoka only toyed with him for about three minutes before putting an end to the game. Still, he should be good enough to defeat some loser at a high school.

"I think they had fun today," Illumi said later that night. "I hope they did. It's strange, to think about fun."

"It's strange to think about duty," Hisoka retorted.

Illumi arched his eyebrows. "Like I said. We're a good team."

Hisoka thought of Biscuit. Her words and Netero's circled him like a swarm of vultures and he wanted to shoot them down. "When's the hearing for your parents?"

"Two weeks." Illumi examined his hair for split ends.

"Was this all calculated?" Hisoka asked. "A dodgeball game to prove that you're a good parent for your siblings?"

Illumi blanched. "Isn't everything calculated—to an extent?"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You don't know how to care about anyone, do you? Not besides yourself." _We're the same._

"It wasn't all for me," Illumi said. "Alluka even smiled."

"Do you even like her, like you said you did?" Hisoka pressed. How far could he push Illumi? When he wasn't aiming for—he didn't know what he was aiming for, but something, some kind of reaction, anything. "Or was that just the right answer?" _What happened when you gave a wrong answer?_

Illumi stiffened. He washed a glass out in the sink. "I do like Alluka. I'm just—getting to know her."

"But Killua's love for you is dependent on your love for her."

"I—"

"You're pathetic," said Hisoka. _You're just like me._

 _No. I'm supposed to be different. No, we're the same. No._

Illumi slammed the glass down. It cracked. He glared at Hisoka. "You—"

"It's okay, isn't it?" Hisoka said. "Everything's calculated, to an extent, right? Like my being here is dependent on you being interesting."

"You said—"

"I lie. That's nothing new. I'm reconsidering whether or not you're interesting." _Tell me. Tell me_ — _tell me something, tell me_ — _I hate this_ — _I hate you_ — _I hate_ — _not you—I hate—_

"Why are you being a bitch?" asked Illumi.

 _Why do you think you know me? Do you? Do you really want to? Why?_ "Don't be condescending. Your parents raised you better than that."

Illumi threw a glass of water at him. It splashed on his face. _Finally_. Hisoka stumbled back. "See," he managed. "You _are_ your parents."

 _I hate me._

"And what about yours?" Illumi demanded, flexing his hand. Shame crossed his face. "What about yours? You won't say a word, but it doesn't take a genius to—"

Oh, fuck no. "I don't think about them because I prefer to forget." And he couldn't lose, not this, not this. "You need to cling. Like you're clinging to me because without your mommy and your daddy you're just—"

"Like _you?"_ Illumi crossed his arms, squeezing himself as if to restrain himself. "Or is anyone allowed to be like you? Can't wait to see how you reinvent yourself. A corpse? An invalid because you had to fight Kastro over your stupid fucking—"

"Isn't it all about making Killua love you still? The Zoldyck business might be foundering but it's still all about him, except no, because it's all about you, because you can't accept that you aren't enough!" That wasn't even an interesting barb. It was a pathetic rotting fish he was using to slap Illumi with, because he had nothing left, and Illumi knew it.

 _This is who I am._

Biscuit and Netero's words echoed and echoed and echoed and he wanted to beat them to a pulp, make them stop, beat himself for caring.

 _You'll drag yourself..._

Like now. He watched Illumi glare at him and knew Illumi saw through it.

"I'm not enough?" Illumi shook. "Tell me, Hisoka: when will you be enough? When will you have enough? Why do you still have to prove it? Who are you even trying to prove it to?"

 _I don't know how to answer that_. Actually he did, but he was too afraid to lose this. "Not tonight, because I'm going home."

"Fine."

 _Fuck you_. Hisoka couldn't say it. He slammed the door. He didn't feel better. He felt like gum stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe, and he couldn't cut himself free, and he felt dirty and he hated it.

It wasn't dependent on Illumi making it interesting. It was dependent on him finding it interesting. And he found Illumi interesting. And enough.

 _Fuck_.

At least if Illumi hated him now he would be able to start over. But he didn't want that and he hated that. Hisoka blew out his breath. He pulled up at his house and stopped. "Oh, you have to be fucking _kidding_ me."

Kikyo Zoldyck.

 _Why that one? She's awful and I'd feel bad for hitting her._

Hisoka didn't acknowledge her as he headed towards his house.

"Morow!" she yelled. "I wanted to—"

"No," Hisoka said. "I'm not helping you blackmail your son, okay?" He grabbed his phone in his pocket. He didn't care if it looked creepy. He pressed _record_.

"Not even if we gave you enough money to go wherever you wanted?"

"You really think money interests me? How lame." He yawned. "What would you even want me to say? Make up a sob story about how I saw Illumi abusing his siblings? Well, he did throw a dodgeball at them earlier today, but they were laughing. You know. Fun. Something you don't really seem to understand."

"You know he thought Alluka was even more dangerous than Silva and I—"

"I saw someone who knew his parents were the most dangerous people ever," said Hisoka, unlocking the door. "You know this is what you deserve, right? Come at me again and I don't care that you're a prim proper woman; I'll kick your ass." He shut the door.

He sent the recording to Biscuit Krueger. Hisoka leaned his head back against the wall. _The fuck am I doing? Why?_

 _Don't think why. Just do._ He'd always been like that. Hisoka scowled.

His phone buzzed. Golden rage mushroom. "Kurapika?"

"I just thought you ought to know," said Kurapika. "I saw Silva Zoldyck talking to Chrollo Lucilfer. I don't know about what, but I'm sure we can all imagine. If they were watching the gym and saw you all today they might be getting more desperate—"

"Kikyo was just here, and I took care of that."

"Please tell me she's not in a dumpster somewhere."

"Please tell me Chrollo isn't either, or if he is at least I get to see him before you close the lid."

"You know," said Kurapika. "We're not that much different. They took everything that mattered to me." His voice shook.

Hisoka bit his tongue. His blood tasted good.

 _Everything that matters._

 _What is enough? When will it be enough?_

 _Aw, fuck._ Not yet, they didn't. "You have plans for tonight, Golden Rage Mushroom?"


	6. Clown

"You are the worst goody-two-shoes I've ever met. There's hypocrisy and then there's, like, you." Hisoka leaned back against the wall of Chrollo's home while Kurapika picked the lock. "It's a whole new level of fascinating." Rain tumbled down, light and misty. Fog rolled through the streets. The cold felt good against his shoulder.

"Shut up." Kurapika swung the door open. He pushed his hood back. "They're all over Machi's."

"Goody."

"Should I even ask what you're doing?" Kurapika asked.

"You just did." Hisoka yanked open Chrollo's laptop, left lying out probably because he thought his house was so secure. _Oopsy, Chrollo_. "I'm destroying all of his files, and hacking into whatever shared system he uses with the rest of his so-called friends, before he can report anything about Silva and Kikyo, because I'm sure that's what they asked him."

"Yeah, me too." Kurapika bit his lip and stuffed his fists into the pockets of his sweatshirt. "Are you really doing all of this just to see what we will do? How far I'll go? Are Silva and Kikyo just boring exceptions for you, in not wanting to see them wreck Illumi's life?"

"I saw Illumi have a breakdown once and I never, ever want to see it again," Hisoka replied. "Plus, this way I keep them guessing. They never know what I'm gonna do."

Kurapika stared at him. "You're a bigger idiot than I thought."

Hisoka chose to ignore what he was pretty certain Kurapika was referencing. "Be careful. I could have you get caught here while I escape."

"I doubt it, and even if you did, we're helping each other."

"We're tolerating each other for mutual goals; let's not kid ourselves. You think I'm creepy and I think you're hilarious."

Kurapika scowled. "He'll know it was one of us."

"He'll know it was me." Hisoka planned to leave a Joker card on Chrollo's pillow. "And I'm going to drop all that information you gave me on Shalnark, Kortopi, Pakunoda, and Uvogin to the police. Justice for your family. Yay. Maybe they'll finally understand your family wasn't comprised of sneaky bad eggs."

Kurapika nodded. He ducked his head. "Thanks."

 _Both of us know you're just going to grow even more bitter. But that's what you want, isn't it? To hate yourself more?_

Hisoka crept into Chrollo's bedroom after he wrecked Chrollo's newspaper, depositing the card on that pillow. _Really? Red satin sheets? You need Jesus._

Hisoka headed back to his home, satisfied. Except, not. He should be. But instead a hollow feeling settled on him, a feeling that hadn't possessed him in years, a feeling he'd buried and forgotten. And now it wouldn't leave him alone. Hisoka felt sick.

Biscuit Krueger had tried to call him numerous times, but he wasn't picking up. That recording should be self-explanatory. Now maybe she would get off his back. Because she was starting to become a nuisance more than a challenge. He emailed the files he'd scanned— _see, I'm not killing trees, Kurapika_ —to the cops.

He left his doors unlocked. _Come for me, Chrollo. I dare you._

Hisoka remembered Illumi's words. _When will it be enough?_

 _Is this enough for you, Illumi? I took care of your goddamned fucking parents for you._ He dropped down onto his own mattress, with normal sheets unlike Chrollo's laughable opulence. He closed his eyes.

 _What do you want?_ he'd asked Illumi. The question wouldn't leave him alone.

 _To smile._

 _To feel good._

 _To deserve. To matter, if just to myself._

Perhaps he'd failed, and to Hisoka, that was the funniest joke of all.

* * *

When Hisoka pried his eyes open to the bright light of morning, disappointment soured in his stomach. Chrollo was so damn slow. He dragged himself out of bed, checking his phone. Nothing from Illumi, which didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was the twinge he felt. Well, that was new. And far more unpleasant than he objectively thought it should be.

He cracked his neck and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. Halfway down the hallway, he realized. He wanted to laugh, but it clung to his throat. "Wanted to see me awake?"

Chrollo sat on his couch, the rest of his friends—well, minus four—around him. Hisoka pretended to count. He couldn't let on. He wouldn't. "Looks like four of you are missing. Good thing you have too many legs alrea—"

"You bastard!" Phinks burst out.

Hisoka strolled towards his fridge and pulled out a half-gallon of milk. _Just end me already. Why are you dragging it out? It's not fun_. He drank from the bottle, noting Machi's nose wrinkling in disgust. "I didn't decide to rob the Kurtas—"

"Just me," said Chrollo. Feitan glowered from behind him like an angry pocket skunk.

He felt tired. "You drugged me."

"And you said some very interesting things."

Hisoka shrugged. "Truth to be told, actually, they could be lies. Who would believe anything I would say?" _I hate you. Just fucking do whatever you plan to do._

"You're just bitter you lost," said Machi.

What would it take to provoke them? "I didn't lose. You cheated like the—"

"Win, at any cost," said Chrollo, rising. "Isn't that your life motto? Your M.O?."

"Same as yours," said Hisoka. _Come on, come on!_

"No. I just met you according to your own rules and played them against you," said Chrollo.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake!_ "And I played yours against you," Hisoka said, screwing the cap back on the milk. "If you plan on beating me up, I'd like to see you try. Unless you drugged that milk." His heart pounded. They better not have. No matter how this went he wanted to remember it. He didn't want to lose himself again.

"You really think you could take this many of us?" Nobunaga burst out. "What did you do to Paku and Uvo and Shalnark and Kortopi?"

 _You're just as much idiots as I am._ "What did they do to themselves?" corrected Hisoka. "If they were dumb enough to have records about how they sold those particular rubies, then I recommend hiring someone who is both a good lawyer and very stupid or reckless."

"So you, in lawyer form," Machi snapped.

"I would never be a lawyer in any form."

"You lying son of a—"

"I was planning on only going to cut your Achilles," Chrollo said, eyes sparking. "That way you won't be fighting anyone for—"

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "That's pretty mob boss, don't you think?" He would fight. He'd have to, even if he just wanted to sleep.

"I don't care. That newspaper is my life—"

Life sparked. "And you were going to ruin Illumi's life with it," Hisoka snapped.

"Hm?" Chrollo frowned. He rubbed his chin as if he didn't know what Hisoka was talking about.

"I know you talked to Silva Zoldyck."

"How?" demanded Chrollo, eyes darting around. All his friends shook their heads, as if to assure him they said nothing.

"Kurta boy," grumbled Feitan. "Must been."

Chrollo looked as if he would like to spit.

"He's still at it?" complained Machi. "I hate him. He's like a leech we can't get rid of."

"He hates you," Hisoka supplied.

"Brand new information."

Chrollo cleared his throat and focused on Hisoka. "Well, we weren't going to do anything for the Zoldycks—well, the parents, really. Silva approached us, yes, but I turned him down. If anything, I was going to report it in Illumi's favor as a favor to Kalluto, who is more than useful with his own reports on Pariston Hill."

Hisoka gritted his teeth to not betray his shock. "Kalluto?"

"He might as well be one of us now," Machi said, leaning back on his sofa.

Hisoka pressed his lips together. "I see." He didn't see. Not at all.

"But I'm not going to touch you," said Chrollo. "Since someone forked over half his bank account for me to leave you alone so I can find that one in a million sadistically confident lawyer."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. His muscles tightened down his neck. "Excuse me?"

"Goodbye." Chrollo turned and swept out of the house, his friends following him like ducklings. _Ugly ducklings,_ Hisoka corrected himself.

Silence descended on the house. His own breaths echoed. Why did he still have to stand?

"You're welcome."

The voice came from the staircase. Hisoka turned.

"Turns out I can, in fact, climb that straight wall and get into your bedroom," Illumi said, striding towards him. His hair flowed down past his waist. A scowl sat deep in his face.

" _You_ paid Chrollo," Hisoka stated. Not that it was ever in doubt, not since Chrollo stated it. But for what? What would make Illumi do that? A dizzying array of options churned in his mind, all shallow, all pathetic, all smokescreens because he needed them. Illumi was starting to remind Hisoka of that stupid golden rage mushroom with his sanctimony. Because that was all it was and Hisoka was not pleased. That was one trait he didn't want to see in Illumi. He didn't want Illumi to bore him, and that—

It wasn't sanctimony, and that fact closed around his throat like a hand did long ago.

 _I won't be like you, where this is all there is,_ he promised someone who probably couldn't even hear him, the man was so stoned. _I'll enjoy my life._

"Yes," said Illumi, leaning against the fridge. "I did. And I don't feel badly about it in the least."

Hisoka dug his fingernails into his palms. "What made you do that?" he demanded. "Because you pity me? I don't need your—those who accept that kind of charity never—they die—" Fuck, maybe they _had_ drugged that milk. Or why else would he be saying that? "I can handle my own messes. And if I can't, I don't deserve to—"

"I don't care."

Ire ignited inside Hisoka. He had to poke. He had to press. He had to burn away the dross and _know_ , really fucking know, and part of him knew it would turn out ash, and part of him wanted—gold. "You're under no duty to take care of me. Or do you think I'm Killua? Just another puppet for you to control. I imagine it'd be nice, to get your hands on my bank account and—"

Illumi's eyes flashed. His chest heaved. "I didn't do it because I felt like I _had_ to, you moron. I did it because I wanted to."

Control. It had to be about control. Fuck. He didn't even know what he wanted. He wanted—he wanted to be disentangled, interested but watching from the sidelines, in the thick of it but only in it for the amusement, not this. Not this. He had no idea where this was going, and it wasn't fun, or was it?

"I'm just a new obsession for you," Hisoka repeated. If he said it enough, maybe he would believe it. _I'm a liar, after all._

"Stop it!" A fist collided with Hisoka's cheekbone, cracking. Hisoka stumbled back. His hand flew towards his split skin.

Gon Freecss glared up at him.

"Oh, you followed me?" Illumi asked. "Killua must have told him, Hisoka."

"Stop being mean!" Gon shouted. "You might be creepy, but if you can't see that Illumi did that because he cares, you're denser than I thought!"

There was a certain irony to being yelled at about being dense by Gon, of all people. Hisoka rubbed his cheek, a laugh welling up, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"You should be glad someone came after you," Gon said, his voice cracking. "And actually, Illumi, Kurapika told me."

"Golden Rage Mushroom does still have a conscience," Hisoka muttered. "How interesting." He was surprised. But not unpleasantly.

"You are like him, you know," said Illumi. "You want to punish yourself for failing. You want revenge on yourself more than you want it on Chrollo. You want to die to prove you've had the most enjoyment and you want to prove you can deserve to still be alive. But I don't want you to do that. I don't care if you failed me."

"That's a load of horseshit," Hisoka snapped, one last desperate throw that might obliterate his opponent. "You're all about success—"

"Kil doesn't—he's still giving me a chance since I—and Alluka—" Illumi pressed his lips together. "I don't know how to convince you."

"You can't," Hisoka said. _You have._

But he didn't know what to do with it.

 _I lost._

He didn't think Illumi would use that to hurt him, and he didn't understand why he was letting down his guard, but he was.

 _Maybe I can lose to you._

"No," Illumi agreed. "I can't."

"I don't want people fighting my battles for me," Hisoka managed. _I'm not enough. But for some reason, you think I am._

"If you fight Kastro, and wind up hurt, Killua says you're even dumber than I am," Gon reported.

Hisoka rolled his eyes.

"I don't want to fight for you," said Illumi. "You're more than capable."

 _Why do you fight?_

 _To live._

Illumi tugged at his hair, and then held his hand out. "But we team up well. And you sent Miss Krueger that recording."

Ahh. So he, Hisoka, was a hypocrite just like Kurapika. Hisoka let out a laugh. Illumi just stared at him with those stupid doe eyes of his.

 _I don't know how to keep fighting right now_. And he didn't know what he would be if he stopped fighting. _I want to—I want—_

 _What do you want? And why does that matter to me?_ Caring about others never really worked out in his favor, so he hadn't. Not ever.

 _I don't have to do this fight._ What would he lose? Chrollo didn't even have much of a news site now. It'd take him at least a week to fix it. He'd only lose to—Illumi. And he'd win, too. Who the hell even was Kastro? Just a fist. Illumi—Illumi—Illumi was—

"Be careful," Hisoka managed. "Or people will think you're in love with me, Illumi."

"Hm?" Illumi cocked his head, tapping his chin as if he hadn't thought of that. "Oh. I see. Well, you're basically family, I suppose. I love family."

Gon looked horrified.

 _Fuck_. _Illumi, you_ — Hisoka shook his head. He dropped his head, holding himself up on the counter. "I won't fight Kastro." _Thank you._

"Thank you," Illumi said primly.

He wasn't using that against him. How strange. Hisoka didn't know what to do with it. Something sticky curdled in his stomach, something he hadn't felt in years. Shame. "Illumi..." _Why?_

 _I'm sorry?_

Illumi stepped across the kitchen and pushed him back, parting Hisoka's mouth with his. Hisoka gripped him, kissing him back. He didn't understand. But this, he knew how to do, and Illumi let him press deeper. Illumi still wanted him. Illumi still wanted him to live. Illumi still trusted, still respected, still.

Gon whimpered. Hisoka pulled back. He still held Illumi, sort of. Illumi gripped Hisoka's elbows, tightly. Illumi held him too.

 _Why do I matter to you? Why are you still here?_ If he wasn't an obsession, Hisoka didn't know how to answer that question. But he knew he did matter to Illumi. And he knew Illumi paid Chrollo for the same reason Hisoka broke into Chrollo's house in the first place, and he knew Illumi knew it too.

 _You win._

 _And that's okay._

"Also, I punched you now," Gon said. "Now you owe me. Remember our deal?"

Hisoka arched his brows. "A photo, if I recall?"

"I've changed my terms."

A fairly amusing brat. "To what?"

* * *

Illumi exhaled. "This was not what I believe Gon had in mind, Hisoka."

"If he trusts me, he's the fool for it," Hisoka responded. The high school loomed in the background, no better than the middle school in terms of aesthetic. Hisoka would be climbing out those huge dull windows and feels mildly disappointed Gon hasn't yet done that. Or if he has, he hasn't talked about it. Or gotten caught, but Hisoka wouldn't expect that.

Which was why he knew precisely where to find those bullies Gon had mentioned. Illumi walked beside him. They had about forty minutes before the dodgeball game Gon asked him to attend, since parents were invited and Mito could not make it.

Sure enough, a group of buff bros sat outside the gym, lighting up. Hisoka cleared his throat as he approached.

The boys' eyes bulged. "Hisoka!"

He smirked. "Ah, so you know me."

Illumi pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Of course! You're the best wrestler in the world!"

The praise did lift Hisoka's spirits. But he had something he wanted to do. He scanned the line of dull faces. "Which one of you is Razor?"

"I am," said the second-tallest boy. He had a pleasant smile and hardly looked the bullying type.

"Why don't we give it a go?" Hisoka asked, cracking his knuckles. He felt the heat of Illumi's glare, burning deeper than the sun on his skin. "Unless you have to prepare for your dodgeball game."

"You know about that?"

"Indeed." Hisoka was enjoying the kid's sense of discomfort. Razor was not stupid. "I've been training Gon Freecss." He rested his hand on his hip. "See, he doesn't need more than one person to train him. He's got unlimited potential. So if you want to keep giving him a hard time—"

"If you're asking me to throw the game, my answer is no."

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing. He can beat you anyways." Hisoka bit down on his lip. "But you will leave him and Killua alone. If Gon's going to be a great wrestler someday, he doesn't need to be distracted by the likes of you. And, of course, you'll leave Killua alone too, since whatever happens to Killua also affects Gon." He peered at the kid. He might be large, but Hisoka could win, and he knew it.

Illumi looked as if he was absolutely dying to say something to these kids. Except he had agreed to let Hisoka say it since he didn't want to be controlling. Although then he'd begun musing on how it might actually be controlling by way of… and Hisoka tuned him out.

"Whoa!" Razor let out a laugh. "It wasn't like we were doing it for fun. We were paid."

"Excuse me?" Now Illumi couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"His old man," said Razor. "Ging Freecss. Said it would be a test to see how strong his son was."

Figures. That prick. "My demand still stands," Hisoka said, crossing his arms. "Do we have an agreement?"

"Sure." Razor shrugged.

"Ging Freecss might give my father a run for worst father of the year," Illumi remarked as they walked away. "What a dick."

Hisoka could see where Ging's motivations came from. Still. "Has he visited Gon once since he got out of the hospital?"

"Yeah. Once." Illumi tugged his hair. "I heard Killua talking about it with Alluka."

Once. Why be a father then? Hisoka could understand the desperate search for adventure, though, for something exciting. But Ging was stupid if he didn't see the potential Gon had physically and academically, if he didn't want to watch his son grow. What a waste. Ging was missing out.

"We could drive over after the game," Illumi offered as he and Hisoka went back to wait in his car. "To the city council."

"Didn't you say that otherwise useless doctor friend of his punched him once?" Hisoka asked.

"Mm." Illumi nodded. "Leorio did punch him."

"I don't think it'd be terribly interesting, then," Hisoka said. "He's not really worth fighting."

"He might be worth slandering once Chrollo gets his news site back, though," Illumi mused. "Although." He held up his finger. "It's only slander if it isn't true."

Hisoka snickered.

"Look," said Illumi. "Let's go see what Gon and my little brother can do."

"If he's made more friends will I have to restrain you?"

Illumi exhaled. "Not funny. I am fine with Kil making friends. Friends I approve."

"So you approve Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio?"

Illumi scowled. "I guess." His voice sounded so bitter Hisoka had to laugh.

The rest of the dodgeball tournament was mostly filled with pathetic excuses for athletes, but when Gon and Killua's homeroom faced off with Razor's, Hisoka leaned in to watch. As he thought. Gon used some of what Hisoka taught him, but most of it came from Gon himself. He had his own ideas, and his own strength, and that always motivated him first. Good.

When they won, Hisoka clapped for him. Gon waved. A taller girl with wild hair and crazy eyes approached to congratulate Gon.

"That must be the stalker," Hisoka observed.

Illumi searched for Killua, who was sitting with a shorter, freckled boy with red hair. "Good job, Kil."

Killua's eyes widened. Illumi, actually praising him for something that wasn't business related. He smiled. "This is Ikalgo. He's my newest friend."

Hisoka remembered seeing Ikalgo with the bullies earlier.

"Nice to meet you," Illumi said, shaking his hand. Gripping hard, no doubt, but still shaking his hand.

"Hey, Aniki, and your shitty boyfriend," said Killua. "Thanks for coming."


	7. Finale

"I did not expect to see you here."

Hisoka tossed his keys from hand to hand. "Nor did I expect to see you." The clock in the waiting room ticked and tocked behind Leorio. "I'm here to pick up my boyfriend and his dumpster fire family for a 'congratulations you didn't set the school on fire in your first semester which is now over' dinner. Don't get the wrong idea." Though personally, Hisoka would like to see Kalluto and Alluka take down Pariston Hill. The principal was continually a thorn in Illumi's side and no one was allowed to mess with Illumi except Hisoka, and he didn't want to.

Leorio held up his hands. "All I'm saying is therapy could definitely be of use for you."

"Look at your roommate first," Hisoka said, stuffing the keys in his pocket. Snow drifted down outside, visible through the window. Gray sky bloated behind the buildings and skeletal trees of Yorknew. "That boy needs help."

Leorio frowned, adjusting the files in his arms. "Kurapika seems to be doing better lately."

"He's just a better actor now." Hisoka rolled his eyes. He hadn't heard from the Golden Rage Mushroom in the past few months, and neither had Gon and Killua, which was upsetting them, which was frustrating Hisoka because them being upset meant they were less fun to be around. "What are you even doing here, anyways?"

"Oh!" Leorio brightened. "I'm interning part-time after school for Dr. Yorkshire. She's awesome."

"Hopefully not too awesome," Hisoka said in a sing-song voice.

Leorio's eyes narrowed. "Do you have to make everything creepy?"

"It can't be helped if you read double meanings into it," Hisoka replied. He crossed his arms as he took a seat.

Leorio scowled. "Planning on fighting Kastro again?"

"No. I won." Last week. Hisoka didn't really care. All he cared about was that afterwards Illumi kissed him. And the lead up to the fight was mostly him and Illumi fighting each other to train. Illumi was talented. In another world, he could have been a wrestler too.

Voices echoed down the hallway. Hisoka stood. "And that would be them."

"I did not say that!"

"You totally did."

"Well, you paid Kalluto to—"

"If you would just—"

"Niisan, Aniki, Onii-chan, Kalluto—be _quiet_!"

Alluka still hadn't graduated to saying shut up. She'd get there. In due time. Hisoka smirked.

"Your dumpster fire boyfriend is here," called Leorio.

 _Hey_. Hisoka narrowed his eyes. Okay, Leorio wasn't wrong.

"Ah, you came," Illumi said, rubbing his eyes. "On time."

Hisoka snickered. "There's a first time for everything."

"You're like an old married couple," Leorio observed.

 _The fuck?_ Hisoka threw several cards at him. Leorio yelped. The files and papers flew everywhere, snowing inside just like outside. "Oops," said Hisoka. Illumi smiled in his eyes even though his lips stayed flat.

"Leorio!" cried out Killua.

"Let me help!" Dr. Yorkshire hurried over, crouching next to him.

"Farewell," Hisoka said, winking at Leorio. His face swelled purple.

"You know," said Illumi as they stepped outside. The wind blew his hair across his face. "Dr. Yorkshire said you could come to a session. Since you're basically a part of our family now."

"I don't talk about the past." Not with anyone but Illumi, that is. And only rarely, and usually after several drinks and/or sex. It didn't matter. But he didn't necessarily mind. He wanted all of Illumi, and that meant he had to give Illumi all of him, and that meant—well, there was no telling what that meant. Exhilarating. And it made him feel alive, way more than beating Chrollo would have.

Illumi regarded him solemnly. "You don't have to."

Hisoka frowned.

"The doctor would just commit him," teased Killua. Kalluto kicked him in the shins. "Ow!"

"Sorry," said Kalluto, face as pink as his eyes.

Was that the first time Kalluto directly opposed Killua? How interesting. They piled into Illumi's SUV, the one Hisoka had borrowed most of the day, and Hisoka couldn't resist. "So what did you talk about?"

"Me," said Killua, sounding sad.

Illumi caught his breath. Hisoka noticed how Illumi's hands twisted in his lap, tightening until the knuckles were white.

"I'm so sick of talking about me," Killua whispered.

"That was the point," said Milluki, bored. "Of that conversation, Killua."

Hisoka glanced in the rearview mirror. Killua pulled his knees up to his chest. He looked outside at the gray sky, the snow tumbling down. "About you being the favorite?"

"Shut up," said Killua.

"It's not your fault," Illumi said. "Dr. Yorkshire—"

"Anyone can say it, and I'll still feel like it is."

Illumi looked as if he was being stabbed with needles. "Well, it's not."

"We don't blame you for it," piped up Kalluto. Alluka leaned her head against the window, reaching out to rub Killua's shoulder.

"Like Dr. Yorkshire said," said Illumi. "We all matter."

Hisoka bit his lip. Interesting. Was that something Illumi actually believed now, or was only doing because he thought he should believe it? Or because he wanted to believe it? Did it matter?

Killua wiped at his eyes, angry. "But I didn't ask to be born—made their favorite—"

"Yeah, but you were," said Milluki. "Like when I'm playing a video game and you get these abilities you didn't plan on. And you used them to help win. And you used that to help Alluka. And now we're all out, so." He let out his breath. "Even if our parents hate us."

"You're far more responsible with that power than I was," said Illumi. "I'm proud." His face colored as if he wasn't sure whether that was okay to say. Hisoka could already hear his internal monologue: _is that controlling? Am I still I just trying to make him the best again?_

"I still forgot about Kalluto," Killua pointed out.

To be fair, Hisoka thought a lot of that family had forgotten Kalluto. Which was a shame. The kid was bright and fun.

"You haven't in awhile," said Kalluto. "Like you and Gon helped me and Alluka break into Pariston's office last night."

"Excuse me?" Illumi erupted.

"Oops." Kalluto bit his nail.

Hisoka guffawed. He could guess that someone else helped them too. A bitter pink poodle of a woman. "What did you _do?"_

"Let's just say it looks like a scene out of _Carrie_ , but it's paint," Kalluto said, sounding proud.

Not bad. Hisoka nodded, speeding up for a yellow light. "Good job."

" _Hisoka_ ," snarled Illumi.

Hisoka pulled into the restaurant parking lot. A girl with smooth hair and large eyes waved at Killua, who waved back but with a frown.

"Who's that?" asked Milluki.

"Palm. The senior Gon went out with once." Killua stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"She's cute," commented Milluki.

"Ew."

"The one you're jealous of?" Hisoka couldn't resist asking. Illumi turned, a look on his face Hisoka hadn't seen in years. He swallowed a laugh.

"I'm not jealous; she's just a stalker! Like for real, she's been suspended before for it!"

" _You_ stalked their date," Kalluto announced. He giggled when Killua shoved him.

"Yeah, because it was Gon! The idiot has no idea what dating involves!" Killua scowled. Snow landed in his hair.

Hisoka glanced at Illumi, whose face was a definite mask of disguised terror.

"If Killua ever goes on a date," Illumi proclaimed later that night. "I am going to do exactly what he did to Gon and he can't even be mad at me for it."

"He can and he will be," Hisoka pointed out, flopping down on their bed. He put his place on the market the week before.

Illumi gritted his teeth. "Maybe I should reconsider this public school thing."

Hisoka arched his brows. "Really?"

"No." Illumi groaned, clutching his skull. He dropped down next to Hisoka. "Miss Krueger is not someone I want to pick a fight with."

"Well, the pressure's off," Hisoka pointed out. "As of two weeks ago, your parents had their parental rights terminated." Zeno still had visitation monthly, supervised, but Kalluto, Killua, and Alluka didn't mind that.

Mike barked downstairs. Hisoka scowled. _I'm living with my boyfriend and three, technically four, kids, and a dog._ That was supposed to be the most boring of lives.

 _It's not._

"Doesn't matter," Illumi said, scowling at him and propping himself up on his elbows. "It's not even her, I suppose. I really—don't want them to hate me. Not any of them."

"They don't," said Hisoka. "Not even Killua. Sometimes he wants to punch you, like okay a lot, but he doesn't hate you."

"Well, none of them hate you either," Illumi responded.

"How could they? I'm fun." Hisoka bit his lip.

Illumi gave him a skeptical look. He pulled out his phone. "Oh, Chrollo said that the article about the insurance company being sold comes out tomorrow. I wish someone would record my father's face."

Hisoka snickered. "Is that a request?"

"I can't help how you interpret things."

The company was sold, but Illumi was going to be able to stay on in his current position. So were Gotoh, Canary and Amane, Tsubone—all of the long-time employees Illumi actually argued for despite having treated them like trash most of his life.

Illumi tapped his chin like he was thinking. Hisoka took that as a _no_. Because somewhere Illumi still wanted their approval, didn't he? But he wouldn't get it, and he'd accepted that, mostly. It just still stung.

Mike whined. Illumi rolled his eyes and hauled himself up, heading down the stairs. The dog pawed at the door. "If you get snow on my floor I will skin you," Illumi warned as he let Mike outside. "He probably misses my parents."

"Hm, your parents seem to have treated him better than you guys."

"No," said Illumi, watching Mike dart through the snow. "Not better. Just like we were one of—just like him. Like pets." He went to brew coffee despite it being close to midnight.

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Does that make Killua the prized puppy?"

"I suppose." Illumi sighed. "It really was unfair to him, raising him like that—with all those expectations. For me, they just had test after test where I'd score 'acceptable' and they'd be uncertain about whether or not they'd let me run the company. When Killua was appointed that, I was fifteen—and I was relieved."

"And?" Hisoka prompted.

"Disappointed." Illumi wrinkled his news. He dumped three tablespoons of sugar into Hisoka's cup again. "But no one was allowed to be."

Hisoka closed the door behind the stupid dog, who did indeed track mud over the floor. Illumi put on his emotionless mask again, as if struggling not to erupt.

"He is the best in some ways," said Illumi, pouring the coffee. "He freed us."

"He's just a kid," said Hisoka. "Like Gon. And Kalluto and Alluka. They have untapped potential that we have no idea about." And he felt excited to see it. Hisoka dumped half a carton of milk into his coffee. Illumi's lips curled. "But if this is all you've got, well, it's good enough to keep me entertained."

"Thanks. I feel loved."

Illumi's deadpan never ceased to work wonders. Hisoka laughed. "You know I've always found expectations dull, but I do expect not to be bored. I have no worries about it, actually."

Illumi sipped his coffee. "You know, that recording you made helped my case."

"I heard." Hisoka shrugged. "I'm glad."

"Entertained?"

 _Yes_ — _no?_ Not quite. This was new, and exciting. "Just glad."

Illumi wrapped his hands around his mug.

"Hey," said Hisoka, an idea churning in his mind that Leorio finally gave him an excuse to throw out there. Just for fun, of course. "Remember what that dumbass friend of Killua's said today?"

"Which one?"

"The thing about being married."

"Oh. Yeah. I mean, I suppose we live together now," Illumi said. "So—"

"Why don't we?" Hisoka asked, gulping his hot coffee ice cream.

"Huh?" Illumi blinked.

"Marry me," Hisoka said. "I'd marry you. It'd be fun. We could plan a wedding. Your siblings could take part. And imagine your father reading some big-ass engagement announcement in Chrollo's newspaper."

"The day Chrollo writes another article about you is the day pigs fly, Hisoka."

"That's where Kalluto comes in handy," Hisoka corrected. "So how about it, Illumi? Will you marry me?"

Illumi paused. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Well, then," said Illumi. "Yes."

"Great," said Hisoka, a smile breaking over his face. "So we're engaged."

"Fiancé." Illumi tugged his hair. "I like it." He picked up his phone again and tapped out a text to Chrollo. _We're engaged._

"Don't specify what to do," Hisoka advised, setting his cup down. "It's more fun to see how he handles it on his own. He can diss me if he wants."

"Well, it's not okay with me if he slanders you." Illumi's eyes glittered, huge and dark.

Hisoka liked hearing that. "Poor Chrollo," Hisoka said. "Forever alone. He deserves it, but I hope it makes him desperate." That would be hilarious. Who would Chrollo go after? Machi? She'd kill him. Shizuku? She had the emo aesthetic. Or one of the guys?

Illumi shook his head. He set his phone down and reached out, dragging Hisoka onto him. Something jabbed into Hisoka's thigh. "If you're my fiancé," he said. "Is fiancé sex better?"

"Hm." Hisoka dove down, plastering his mouth over Illumi's. Illumi pulled him closer.

* * *

"Niisan?"

"Hey, Aniki."

"Aniki."

"Nii _saaaaaan."_

Light scalded Hisoka's eyes like boiling water. He jerked awake, ready to murder whoever turned that goddamn light on without so much as a—

"What the fuck?" Illumi demanded, wide-eyed despite them streaming from the light. He blinked rapidly. "What's the matter?"

Alluka and Kalluto carried paper in their hands. Killua leaned back against the wall, a smile on his face. Milluki stood by the light switch. Hisoka pinned him with his gaze. _You_. It was still dark out, for crying out loud. The clock read 5:58 am.

Alluka thrust the paper at them. "Congratulations!"

"I don't follow," Illumi rasped. He glanced at Hisoka. "Oh. That's right. We got engaged."

"And we're happy about it," said Kalluto, gesturing to the paper, which was a homemade card. "Amazingly."

"Alluka made us stay up all night to make muffins from scratch to congratulate you," Killua offered.

Hisoka sniffed the air. Ah, that explained the slightly acrid smell.

"I disabled the fire alarm," Milluki said.

Illumi rubbed his forehead. "I don't understand."

"We wanted to celebrate with you," Alluka informed him, beaming. Hisoka bit back a smirk.

"Oh." Illumi looked lost. He glanced to Hisoka.

Hisoka had to chuckle at how dense this man was. "Illumi, this is a good thing. They're happy for you."

"Oh!" Illumi turned back to them. "I—"

Kalluto hugged him, and then Alluka, and then Killua. Hisoka watched with a smirk. Illumi looked shocked.

"I'm glad you're my brothers," Alluka declared.

"Me too," Illumi said softly. "I'm… glad."

"You too now!" Alluka crowed, turning to Hisoka.

"I don't hug," Hisoka said, backing up. Nope. Not happening. That was one limit he would not cross.

"Good," said Killua in relief.

"Sad," said Alluka, but she stopped. She clapped her hands. "I'm so happy!"

Her smile really could create world peace. Silva and Kikyo were bastards. Hisoka had a few ideas of what to do with them, but he would refrain. For now. Although...

"I have a question," Hisoka said. "How did you find out? Because I don't believe we told you since it happened only about five hours ago."

"Milluki told us," said Kalluto.

"Mm," Killua agreed, crossing his arms over his head.

Hisoka turned to Milluki. "And how did _you_ find out?"

"I overheard," Milluki said, sweat shining on his face.

"The door to the basement was closed," Illumi pointed out.

"Okay," Milluki said. "I maybe—have some recorders in the kitchen—and the living room—for my YouTube channel."

"Your what?" Illumi demanded.

"This is the first I've heard of it," Killua said, gaping at his brother.

Milluki turned pale.

"And what is the name of this YouTube channel?" Hisoka asked innocently.

Milluki took a step towards the door. "Rainbow Pennywise?" His voice came out a squeak.

"Who's Pennywise?" whispered Alluka.

"No one," Kalluto said as Hisoka rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

"It has more subscribers than your channel does!" Milluki shouted. "Now the world knows—"

"How long?" Hisoka demanded, inching closer.

"Since you started dating, idiot!"

Hisoka leaped up and at him. Killua doubled over laughing.

Kalluto's phone rang. The kid answered. "Chrollo? Yeah. It's true."

Hisoka relented from killing Milluki to listen to this. His heart beat faster. He could only imagine Chrollo's reaction.

Kalluto held out the phone. Illumi took it. "Hello? Chrollo? Yeah… yeah. Mm."

Hisoka couldn't resist. He snatched the phone away from Illumi. "Hello, Lucilfer. You can't talk to my trophy husband now."

Illumi scowled up at him.

"You two deserve each other," Chrollo said derisively.

"Thank you. And sorry about your perpetually blue balls." Hisoka hung up.

Killua yelped, covering Alluka's ears. Kalluto just looked disgusted.

Kurapika and Leorio stopped by later with Gon, ostensibly to see Killua after several months.

"Wow!" shrieked Gon. "That's—uh—that's—something?" He rubbed the back of his head and grinned up at them.

"Sorry, Killua," Leorio said, curling his lip as he looked at Hisoka and Illumi.

"Congratulations," Kurapika offered quietly. His eyes, gray and cloaked with contacts, looked empty.

"Wasn't your dad coming today, Gon?" asked Killua.

"Yeah, but he cancelled again." Gon shrugged, crouching to pat Mike.

 _What a prick_. Hisoka swung at Gon. Gon caught his hand, dodging. "Well done," Hisoka told him.

Gon smiled.

"Weddings are complicated," Illumi mused that night, rubbing his temples as he stared at his laptop, sitting cross-legged on their bed.

"We could just go and sign some papers."

Illumi frowned. And then the corners of his lips turned up. "Ah." He turned back to the computer, seemingly satisfied with Hisoka's offer. "My siblings wouldn't agree to that though. They'll want a wedding. There are a lot of other things to consider, too. Like a prenup, or—"

"Sure," said Hisoka. "You can have all my money if I die or we get divorced."

"I think that's a will, and I think prenups are to establish the opposite."

Hisoka rested his chin on Illumi's head. _Stop working and kiss me_. "Yeah, but I don't care. You can have it." He paused. "Although…"

"Although?" Illumi glanced up at him.

"If your siblings ever turn the lights on as a way of waking me up again, I'm divorcing you. And them. So make sure they don't." Hisoka wondered about asking to shut down Milluki's YouTube channel. Nah. The competition had already commenced and he had Illumi's cooperation.

"Mm," said Illumi. "I believe that'd be controlling, wouldn't it?"

Hisoka snorted. "Tell me, Illumi, why you're marrying me." _I_ _know why. I just want to hear you say it._

"Because," Illumi said with a frown. "I want to." He bit his lip. "This isn't just for fun, is it? Or for a show?"

Hisoka blinked. "Of course not."

Illumi smirked at how quickly he'd denied it.

"You frustrate the shit out of me," said Hisoka, inching closer. "And I can't understand you." He was ice, and Hisoka was fire. He could put him out, and he could melt him. But they worked together. How very interesting.

"So you'll spend your life studying me?"

Hisoka leaned closer. _I guess_.

"If I tell people you proposed they'll think you're in love with me," Illumi taunted.

"Manipulator," Hisoka replied immediately. Illumi looked chastised. "You can just ask me."

Illumi scoffed. "You'd never give me a straight answer."

"But that's what you want."

Illumi looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. "No. I don't need it."

 _That wasn't what I asked. You still_ want _to hear it, don't you? From Killua, from Milluki, from Kalluto, Alluka too. From your parents_. Hisoka leaned closer to Illumi, nibbling on his earlobe. "Maybe I do."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! This was a fun fic to write.**

 **Anyways, since Illumi and now Hisoka have had their fics, there will be a third fic about Chrollo. With of course copious amounts of Hisoillu. I hope to have it up in the next week or so!**


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